LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


PRINCETON.  N.  J. 
Presented  by 


The  Widow  o-f  (George  J)w  <gdin  7 


BT  1101  . F57  1893 

Fisher,  George  Park,  1827- 
1909. 

The  grounds  of  theistic  and 

rVxy-  -i  c*+-  -i  an  1  -J  n  -f 


PROFESSOR  GEORGE  P.  FISHER’S  WORKS. 


“Topics  of  profound  interest  to  the  studious  inquirer  after  truth  are 
discussed  by  the  author  with  his  characteristic  breadth  of  view,  catholicity 
of  judgment,  affluence  of  learning,  felicity  of  illustration,  and  force  of 
reasoning.  .  .  .  His  singular  candor  disarms  the  prepossessions  of  his 

opponents.  ...  In  these  days  of  pretentious,  shallow,  and  garrulous 
Scholarship,  his  learning  is  as  noticeable  for  its  solidity  as  for  its  compass.” 

— N.  Y.  Tribune. 


History  of  the  Christian  Church.  8vo,  with  Maps, 

- 

- 

- 

$3.50 

Supernatural  Origin  of  Christianity.  New  Edition, 

Crown  8vo, 

- 

2.50 

The  Reformation.  New  Edition,  Crown  8vo, 

- 

- 

2.50 

The  Beginnings  of  Christianity.  New  Edition,  Crown  8vo, 

- 

2.50 

Grounds  of  Theistic  and  Christian  Belief.  Crown  8vo, 

* 

- 

2.50 

Discussions  in  History  and  Theology.  8vo, 

- 

- 

3.00 

Faith  and  Rationalism.  New  Edition,  12mo, 

•  • 

- 

.75 

The  Christian  Religion.  New  Edition,  16mo, 

«  A 

- 

.50 

Manual  of  Christian  Evidences.  16mo, 

•  e 

m 

.75 

The  Nature  and  Method  of  Revelation.  12mo, 

- 

- 

1.25 

Manual  of  Natural  Theology.  16mo, 

- 

- 

.75 

THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND 
CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 


BY 


A 

GEORGE  P.  FISHER,  D.D.,  LL.D. 

PROFESSOR  OF  ECCLESIASTICAL  HISTORY  IN  YALE  COLLEGE 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER’S  SONS 

1893 


Copyright,  1883,  by 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER’S  SONS, 


Norinooti  Dkcss : 

Berwick  &  Smith,  Boston,  U.S.A, 


TO 

WILLIAM  FORBES  FISHER 

THE  SON  WIIO  WAS  MY  HOUSEHOLD  COMPANION 
WHILE  I  WAS  PREPARING 


THIS  VOLUME 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2019  with  funding  from 
Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


https://archive.org/details/groundsoftheistiOOfish_O 


PREFACE. 


This  volume  embraces  a  discussion  of  the  evidences  of 
both  natural  and  revealed  religion.  Prominence  is  given  to 
topics  having  special  interest  at  present  from  their  connection 
with  modern  theories  and  difficulties.  With  respect  to  the 
first  division  of  the  work,  the  grounds  of  the  belief  in  God, 
it  hardly  need  be  said  that  theists  are  not  all  agreed  as  to  the 
method  to  be  pursued,  and  as  to  what  arguments  are  of  most 
weight,  in  the  defence  of  this  fundamental  truth.  I  can  only 
say  of  these  introductory  chapters,  that  they  are  the  product 
of  long  study  and  reflection.  The  argument  of  design,  and 
the  bearing  of  evolutionary  doctrine  on  its  validity,  are  fully 
considered.  It  is  made  clear,  I  believe,  that  no  theory  of 
evolution  which  is  not  pushed  to  the  extreme  of  materialism 
and  fatalism  —  dogmas  which  lack  all  scientific  warrant  — 
weakens  the  proof  from  final  causes.  In  dealing  with  anti* 
tlieistic  theories,  the  agnostic  philosophy,  partly  from  the 
show  of  logic  and  of  system  which  it  presents,  partly  from 
the  guise  of  humility  which  it  wears,  —  not  to  speak  of  the 
countenance  given  it  by  some  naturalists  of  note,  —  seemed 
to  call  for  particular  attention.  One  radical  question  in  the 
conflict  with  atheism  is  whether  man  himself  is  really  a 
personal  being,  whether  he  has  a  moral  history  distinct  from 


vi 


PREFACE. 


a  merely  natural  history.  If  he  has  not,  then  it  is  idle  to 
talk  about  theism,  but  equally  idle  to  talk  about  the  data  of 
ethics.  Ethics  must  share  the  fate  of  religion.  How  can 
there  be  serious  belief  in  responsible  action,  when  man  is  not 
free,  and  is  not  even  a  substantial  entity  ?  If  this  question 
were  disposed  of,  further  difficulties,  to  be  sure,  would  be  left 
:n  the  path  of  agnostic  ethics.  How  can  self-seeking  breed 
benevolence,  or  self-sacrifice  and  the  sense  of  duty  spring  out 
of  the  “  struggle  for  existence  ”  ?  Another  radical  question 
is  that  of  the  reality  of  knowledge.  Are  things  truly  knowa- 
ble  ?  Or  is  what  we  call  knowledge  a  mere  phantasmagoria, 
produced  we  know  not  by  what?  This  is  the  creed  which 
some  one  has  aptly  formulated  in  the  Shakspearian  lines :  — 

“We  are  such  stuff 

As  dreams  are  made  of,  and  our  little  life 

Is  rounded  with  a  sleep.” 

In.  the  second  division  of  the  work  the  course  pursued  is 
different  from  that  usually  taken  by  writers  on  the  Evidences 
of  Revelation.  A  natural  effect  of  launching  an  ordinary 
inquirer  at  once  upon  a  critical  investigation  of  the  author¬ 
ship  of  the  Gospels  is  to  bewilder  his  mind  among  patristic 
authorities  that  are  strange  to  him.  I  have  preferred  to 
follow,  though  with  an  opposite  result,  the  general  method 
adopted  of  late  by  noted  writers  of  the  sceptical  schools.  I 
have  undertaken  to  show  that  when  we  take  the  Gospels  as 
they  stand,  prior  to  researches  into  the  origin  of  them,  the 
miraculous  element  in  the  record  is  found  to  carry  in  it  a 
self- verifying  character.  On  the  basis  of  what  must  be,  and 
actually  is,  conceded,  the  conclusion  cannot  be  avoided  that 
the  miracles  occurred.  This  vantage-ground  once  fairly 


PREFACE. 


•  • 
Vll 

gained,  the  matter  of  the  authorship  and  date  of  the  Gospels 
can  be  explored  without  the  bias  which  a  prejudice  against 
the  miraculous  elements  in  the  narrative  creates  against 
its  apostolic  origin.  Then  it  remains  to  establish  the  truth¬ 
fulness  of  the  apostolic  witnesses,  and,  further,  to  vindicate 
the  supernatural  features  of  the  Gospel  history  from  the 
objection  that  is  suggested  by  the  stories  of  pagan  miracles 
and  by  the  legends  of  the  saints.  The  concluding  chapters, 
up  to  the  last,  contain  a  variety  of  corroborative  arguments, 
and  enter  into  topics  relating  to  the  Scriptures  and  the 
canon.  In  preparing  these  chapters,  I  have  sought  to  direct 
the  reader  into  lines  of  reflection  which  may  serve  to  impress 
him  with  the  truth  contained  in  the  remark  that  the  strongest 
proof  of  Christianity  is  afforded  by  Christianity  itself  and  by 
Christendom  as  an  existing  fact.  The  final  chapter  consid¬ 
ers  the  bearing  of  the  natural  and  physical  sciences  upon 
the  Christian  faith  and  the  authority  of  the  Scriptures. 

It  has  become  the  fashion  of  a  class  of  writers  to  decry 
all  works  having  for  their  aim  to  vindicate  the  truth  of 
Christianity  :  it  is  considered  enough  to  say  that  they  emanate 
from  “  Apologists.”  The  design  would  seem  to  be  to  con¬ 
nect  with  this  technical  word  of  theology  a  taint  carried  over 
from  the  meaning  attached  to  it  in  its  ordinary  use.  But  an 
“  Apologist,”  in  the  usage  of  the  Greek  authors,  is  simp.y 
one  who  stands  for  the  defence  of  himself  or  of  his  cause. 
When  Paul  began  his  address  to  the  mob  at  Jerusalem,  he 
called  3n  them  to  hear  his  “  Defence  ;  ”  that  is,  as  the  Greek 
reads,  his  “Apology.”  When  Agrippa  gave  him  leave  to 
defend  himself  against  the  charges  made  against  him,  he 
“stretched  forth  his  hand,”  and  apologized;  as  it  is  rendered 
in  the  English  version,  “answered  for  himself.”  It  might 


PREFACE. 


•  •  • 

Vlll 

be  convenient,  but  it  is  hardly  magnanimous,  for  the  assail¬ 
ants  of  Christianity  to  invite  its  disciples  to  leave  the  field 
wholly  to  them,  or  to  endeavor  to  secure  this  result  by  call¬ 
ing  names.  It  is  quite  true  that  the  advocates  of  any 
opinion  in  which  the  feelings  are  enlisted  are  liable  to  forget 
the  obligation  they  are  under  to  rid  themselves  of  every 
unscientific  bias,  and  to  carry  into  all  their  reasonings  the 
spirit  of  candor  and  uprightness.  But,  whatever  faults  on  this 
score  have  been  committed  by  some  of  the  defenders  of  the 
faith,  it  can  scarcely  be  claimed  that  their  antagonists,  as  a 
rule,  have  shown  a  greater  exemption  from  these  partisan 
vices.  The  remark  is  sometimes  rashly  thrown  out,  that 
defences  of  religious  truth  are  of  no  value  in  convincing 
those  who  read  them.  The  contrary,  as  regards  especially 
their  effect  on  inquiring  minds  not  steeled  against  persuasion, 
is  shown  by  experience  to  be  the  fact.  Certain  it  is,  that 
from  the  era  of  Celsus  and  Porphyry,  to  the  days  of  Voltaire 
and  Strauss,  Christian  believers  have  felt  bound  to  meet  the 
challenge  of  disbelief,  as  an  apostle  directs,  by  giving  a 
reason  for  the  hope  that  is  in  them  (1  Peter,  iii,  15). 

I  must  expect,  that,  among  the  readers  who  may  be 
interested  in  the  general  subject  of  this  volume,  some  will 
be  less  attracted  by  the  sections  that  are  concerned  with  the 
philosophical  objections  to  theism,  or  with  the  critical  evi¬ 
dence  in  behalf  of  the  genuineness  of  the  Gospels.  But 
even  this  class,  I  trust,  will  find  the  major  part  of  the  book 
not  altogether  ill-suited  to  their  wants.  I  venture  to  in¬ 
dulge  the  hope,  that  they  may  derive  from  it  some  aid  in 
clearing  up  perplexities,  and  some  new  light  upon  the  nature 
of  the  Christian  faith  and  its  relation  to  the  Scriptures. 

It  should  be  stated  that  a  portion  of  this  volume  has  been 


PREFACE. 


ix 


published,  mostly  as  a  connected  series  of  articles,  in  the 
Princeton  Review.  These,  however,  have  been  much  altered, 
and  in  some  cases  largely  rewritten.  More  than  half  of  the 
chapters  have  not  before  appeared  in  print  in  any  form. 

New  Haven,  Aug.  8, 1883. 


' 


% 

CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  PERSONALITY  OP  GOD  AND  OP  MAN. 


Page. 

The  Two  Beliefs  Associated .  1 

The  Essentials  of  Personality .  2 

The  Reality  of  Self . 2 

Self-determination . .  3 

Theories  of  Necessity  and  Determinism . 6 

The  Consciousness  of  Moral  Law  .......  18 

Religion  not  of  Empirical  Origin . .  19 

H.  Spencer  on  the  Origin  of  Religion . 21 

The  Feelings  of  Dependence  and  of  Obligation . 26 

The  Consciousness  of  God  and  Self-consciousness  ....  28 

The  Tendency  to  Worship . .33 

The  Element  of  Will  in  Religious  Faith . 35 

Religious  Presentiment .  ...  35 


CHAPTER  H. 

THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


The  Ultimate  Source  of  Faith  in  God . 37 

The  Intuition  of  the  Unconditioned  .......  38 

The  Ontological  Argument . 39 

The  Cosmological  Argument . 41 

The  Argument  of  Design . 42 

Order  and  Design . 43 

Mind  in  Nature  ...........  44 

The  Immanence  of  Design . 47 

Use  and  Intention . 48 

Criticisms  by  Kant .  ...  48 

Vhe  Atomic  Theory  of  Chance  .  .  53 

xi 


Xll 


CONTENTS, 


Page. 

Evolution  and  Design .  52 

Variability  in  Organisms . *  .  .  56 

Darwin  on  Variability  and  Design . 57 

Is  Final  Cause  an  a  priori  Principle  ?  .  ...  64 

The  Moral  Argument . 67 

The  Historical  Argument . 69 

Personality  consistent  with  Infinity . 69 

Atheism  an  Affront  to  Humanity . 72 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  PRINCIPAL  ANTI-THEISTIO  THEORIES  :  PANTHEISM, 
POSITIVISM,  MATERIALISM,  AGNOSTICISM. 


What  is  Pantheism  ? .  ....  73 

The  System  of  Spinoza . 73 

The  German  Ideal  Pantheism . 75 

Pantheism  involves  Necessity . 77 

Positivism . 78 

Materialism . 79 

Relation  of  Consciousness  to  Physical  States  .....  80 

The  Mind  and  the  Brain  .  .  83 

Spencer’s  Agnostic  System . 85 

The  Question  of  the  Reality  of  Knowledge . 95 

Locke,  Berkeley,  Hume,  Reid,  Kant  .......  96 

Hamilton  and  Mansel . 98 

J.  S.  Mill  and  H.  Spencer . 100 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  POSSIBILITY  AND  THE  FUNCTION  OF  MIRACLES,  WITH 
A  REVIEW  OF  PROFESSOR  HUXLEY’S  COMMENTS  ON  HUME. 


Natural  and  Supernatural  Revelation  . 
Christianity  and  the  Light  of  Nature 
Christianity  an  Historical  Religion 
Christianity  not  an  Afterthought  of  God . 
Miracles  a  Constituent  of  Revelation  . 

The  Relation  of  Miracles  to  Natural  Law 

Hume’s  Argument . 

Huxley’s  Modification  of  Hume’s  Position 

The  “  Order  of  Nature  ” . 

The  Relation  of  Miracles  to  Internal  Evidence 
Indispensable  Need  of  Miracles  .  .  , 


103 

104 

105 
107 

107 

108 
109 
111 

115 

116 
118 


CONTENTS. 


Xlll 


CHAPTER  V. 

CHRIST’S  CONSCIOUSNESS  OF  A  SUPERNATURAL  CALLING 
VERIFIED  BY  IIIS  SINLESS  CHARACTER. 

Page 

Proofs  of  Christianity  outside  of  tlie  Scriptures  ....  121 


The  Claims  made  by  Jesus  .........  124 

Hypothesis  of  Mental  Aberration . 126 

No  Parallel  in  other  Religious  Founders . .  128 

The  Sobriety  of  Jesus . 132 

The  Sinlessness  of  Jesus . 134 

No  Consciousness  of  Evil  in  Him . 137 

The  Ordeal  through  which  He  went .......  142 


Miraculous  Aspect  of  his  Sinless  Character  .....  145 


CHAPTER  VI. 

PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST  INDEPENDENTLY  Off 
SPECIAL  INQUIRY  INTO  THE  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  GOS¬ 


PELS. 

The  Apostles  professed  to  work  Miracles . .  148 

Injunctions  not  to  report  the  Miracles  ......  151 

Excessive  Esteem  of  Miracles  forbidden . 153 

Teaching  that  is  inseparable  from  Miracles . 155 

No  Miracles  ascribed  to  John  the  Baptist . 161 

No  Miracles  of  Jesus  prior  to  his  Baptism . 162 

The  Persistence  of  the  Apostles  in  their  Faith  .  •  -  •  .  .  162 

The  Mythical  Theory  of  Strauss . 163 

The  Miracles  are  Links  in  the  Nexus  of  Events  ....  164 

The  Resurrection  of  J esus . 166 

The  “  Vision-Theory  ” . 168 

Hallucination  disproved . 170 

Keim’s  Admission  of  the  Miracle .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .173 

Concessions  of  the  Ablest  Disbelievers . 175 

Renan’s  Idea  as  to  the  Miracles  ........  177 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD  OF  THE  TESTIMONY 

GIVEN  BY  THE  APOSTLES. 

The  Reception  of  the  Gospels  in  the  Second  Century  .  .  .  182 

The  Value  of  the  Testimony  of  Irenams . 185 

Froude  on  the  Testimony  of  Irenseus . 187 

J ustin  Martyr’s  Testimony . .  188 

References  to  the  Gospels  in  J  ustin  .......  190 


XIV 


CONTENTS. 


Page. 

His  “  Momoirs  ”  were  the  Canonical  Gospels  ....  202 

Early  Non-canonical  Writings . 205 

Apocryphal  Gospels . 206 

Testimony  from  the  Gnostics . .  .  •  207 

Celsus . 209 

Papias . 210 

Marcion  a  Witness  to  Luke’s  Gospel . 214 

The  Tubingen  Premise  untenable . 215 

Internal  Proof  of  the  Early  Date  of  the  Synoptists  .  .  .  216 

Origin  of  the  Synoptical  Gospels . 217 

The  Integrity  of  the  Gospels .  219 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL. 


It  was  one  of  the  “  Homologoumena  ” . 221 

The  Modern  Attack  by  the  Tubingen  School . 225 

The  Testimony  of  Irenaeus . 226 

John’s  Residence  at  Ephesus . 227 

Patristic  Testimonies  to  this  Gospel . 230 

The  Internal  Evidence . 235 

The  Apocalypse  and  the  Fourth  Gospel . 237 

The  Fourth  Gospel  and  Philo . 238 

The  Author  a  Palestinian  Jew . 241 

Relation  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  to  the  Synoptists  ....  242 

Discourses  of  Christ  in  the  Fourth  Gospel  ......  247 

Alleged  Dualism  in  the  Fourth  Gospel . 255 

View  taken  of  Miracles . .  .  257 

Indirect  Proofs  of  Personal  Recollection . 258 

Not  a  Pseudonymous  Writing  ........  259 

Disclosure  of  the  Author’s  Personal  Traits . 261 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  TRUSTWORTHINESS  OF  TIEE  APOSTLES’  TESTIMONY  AS 
PRESENTED  BY  THE  EVANGELISTS. 

The  Apostles  regarded  by  themselves  as  Witnesses  ....  207 


Always  conscious  of  being  Disciples . 269 

Relate  Instances  of  their  own  Weakness  ......  270 

Relate  their  Serious  Faults  and  Sins . 272 

Describe  the  Human  Infirmities  of  J esus  ......  273 

Submit  to  Suffering  and  Death . .  274 

Not  Victims  of  Self-delusion . .  276 

The  Gospels  not  moulded  by  Doctrinal  Bias  .  .  ,  .  ,  277 

The  Gospel  Narratives  not  Mythical  .......  278 

The  Life  of  Jesus  prior  to  his  Ministry  ......  279 


CONTENTS, 


XV 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  MIRACLES  OF  THE  GOSPEL  IN  CONTRAST  WITH  HEA¬ 
THEN  AND  ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES. 

Page. 

The  Gospel  Miracles  are  to  attest  Revelation . 281 

They  are  wrought  in  Opposition  to  Prevailing  Beliefs  ,  ,  .  283 

Absence  of  Motives  to  Fraud . 284 

Ecclesiastical  Miracles  explained  by  Natural  Causes  .  .  .  285 
Incompetence  of  Witnesses  to  Ecclesiastical  Miracles  .  .  .  286 

Gospel  Miracles  not  Tentative . 288 

Grotesque  Character  ^f  Ecclesiastical  Miracles . 289 

Possibility  of  Post-apostolic  Miracles . 291 

Alleged  Miracles  in  the  Early  Church  .......  292 

Miracles  reported  by  Augustine . 293 

The  Biographies  of  St.  Francis . .  300 

Sort  of  Miracles  ascribed  to  St.  Francis  ......  302 

The  Truthfulness  of  the  Apostles  ........  304 

CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  CHRISTIANITY  FROM  THE  CONVERSION 
OF  SAUL  OF  TARSUS,  WITH  AN  EXAMINATION  OF  RENAN’S 
THEORY  OF  THAT  EVENT. 

Personal  Characteristics  of  Paul . 30G 

Naturalistic  Explanation  of  his  Conversion . 307 

None  of  the  Antecedents  of  Hallucination  .....  309 

His  Conversion  not  a  “  Vision  ” . 310 

The  Moral  and  Spiritual  Change  in  him  ......  311 

CHAPTER  XH. 

THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  CHRISTIANITY  FROM  PROPHECY,  WITH 
COMMENTS  ON  THE  THEORY  OF  KUENEN. 

The  Main  Design  of  Prophecy . 314 

Characteristics  of  the  Prophet . 316 

The  Predictive  Element  in  Prophecy  .......  317 

The  Relation  of  Prediction  to  Chronology  .....  320 

Messianic  Prophecy . 321 

Particular  Predictions . 329 

Dr.  Kuenen’s  Theory  326 

True  Prophets  and  “  False  Prophets  329 

Criteria  of  the  True  Prophet . 332 

Deistic  Spirit  of  Dr.  Kuenen’s  Theory . 332 

Prophecies  in  the  New  Testament  .......  334 


XVI 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  CHRISTIANITY  FROM  ITS  ADAPTEDNESS 
TO  THE  NECESSITIES  OF  HUMAN  NATURE. 

Pase. 

Practical  Character  of  Christianity  .......  336 

The  Conscious  Need  of  God . 337 

The  Consciousness  of  Sin  and  Guilt . 340 

The  Miseries  of  Life . 343 

Recognition  in  the  Bible  of  the  Facts  of  Life  .....  314 

Reconciliation  to  God . 315 

The  Life  of  Faith  347 

The  Testimony  of  Experience . 348 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  CHRISTIANITY  FROM  THE  CHARACTER 
OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  SYSTEM  OF  DOCTRINE. 

Christianity  a  System . .  .  349 

Relation  of  Reason  to  the  Gospel . 351 

The  Pure  Theism  of  Christianity  ........  352 

The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Providence  ......  354 

The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Man  ........  355 

The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Sin . .  356 

The  Christian  Doctrine  of  Salvation  .......  353 

The  Incarnation  and  Atonement  .......  360 

The  Influence  of  the  Spirit  of  God  . . 361 

The  Theodicy  . . 361 

CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  CHRISTIANITY  FROM  CHRISTENDOM  AS 
AN  EFFECT  OF  CHRIST’S  AGENCY. 

The  Progress  of  Christianity  .........  367 

Character  of  its  Influence . 368 

New  Ideal  of  Man  and  of  Society . 369 

Effect  of  Christianity  on  the  Family . .  372 

Christianity  and  the  State . 373 

Christianity  and  Liberty . 374 

Christianity  and  Charity  .  .  ......  379 

Christianity  and  Slavery  . . 381 


CONTENTS. 


XVII 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  CHRISTIANITY  FROM  A  COMPARISON 

OF  IT  WITH  OTHER  RELIGIONS. 

Page. 

Character  of  Heathen  Religions  ........  388 

Peculiarity  of  the  Christian  Religion . 390 

Confucianism . 391 

Buddhism . 392 

The  Religion  of  Egypt . 392 

The  Religion  of  the  Greeks . 393 

Mohammedanism . 393 

Polytheism  and  Monotheism . 394 

Christianity  fitted  to  be  Universal . 401 

Hebrew  and  Christian  Monotheism . 402 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  RELATION  OF  BIBLICAL  CRITICISM  TO  THE  CHRISTIAN 

FAITH. 

The  Practical  Influence  of  the  Bible . 407 

The  Place  for  Criticism . 408 

Revelation  is  through  Redemption . .  .  410 

Revelation  is  Historical . 411 

Revelation  precedes  Scripture  ........  414 

The  Old  Testament  Literature . 417 

The  Authority  of  Christ  and  the  Apostles . 423 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  CANON  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT  IN  ITS  RELATION  TO 

THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH. 

Significance  of  “  Canon  ”  .  .  .  427 

The  Need  of  Historical  Inquiry . 428 

Gradual  Formation  of  the  Canon . 428 

The  Syrian  Canon . 430 

The  Old  Latin  Version . 430 

The  Muratorian  Canon . .  .  431 

Irenseus,  Tertullian,  Clement,  Origen  .  432 

Authority  of  Apostolic  Fathers  .......  433  — 

Eusebius  on  the  Canon  .  .  435 

Jerome  and  Augustine . 430 

Luther  on  the  Books  of  the  New  Testament . 437 

Calvin  and  Tyndale . 438 

The  Disputed  Books  .  440 


CONTENTS 


•  •  • 

XVlll 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  CONGRUITY  OP  THE  NATURAL  AND  PHYSICAL  SCI- 
ENCES  WITH  THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH. 

Page. 

Alleged  Hostility  of  Christianity  to  Science . 445 

Persecution  of  Scientific  Men . 447 

The  Case  of  Galileo . 448 

Opposition  to  Geology  and  to  other  Sciences . 450 

Causes  of  Intolerance  toward  Science . 452 

Wrong  Position  taken  by  Theologians . 455 

The  School  of  Buckle . 457 

The  Historical  Theory  of  Draper  .......  458 

Arabic  and  Christian  Science . 4G0 

Christianity  has  promoted  Science . 462 

Distinction  of  Science  and  Philosophy . 467 

Views  of  Nature  in  the  Old  Testament . 469 

The  Unity  of  Nature  recognized . 470 

The  Reality  of  Second  Causes  recognized . 471 

Nature  viewed  as  a  System  .........  471 

The  Narrative  of  the  Creation  in  Genesis  .....  473 

The  Bible  and  Evolution . 478 

The  Idea  of  Creation . 479 

The  Fact  of  Death . 479 

The  Transfiguration  of  Nature  ........  481 

The  Greatness  and  the  Littleness  of  Mas  ......  £82 


THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND 
CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND 
CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 

Theism  signifies  not  only  that  there  is  a  ground  or 
cause  of  all  things, —  so  much  every  one  who  makes  an 
attempt  to  account  for  himself  and  for  the  world  around 
him  admits, — but  also  that  the  Cause  of  all  things  is  a 
Personal  Being,  of  whom  an  image  is  presented  in  the 
human  mind.  This  image  falls  short  of  being  adequate, 
only  as  it  involves  limits, — -limits,  however,  which 
belong  not  to  intelligence  in  itself,  but  simply  to  in¬ 
telligence  in  its  finite  form. 

Belief  in  the  personality  of  man,  and  belief  in  the 
personality  of  God,  stand  or  fall  together.  A  glance 
at  the  history  of  religion  would  suggest  that  these  two 
beliefs  are  for  some  reason  inseparable.  Where  faith  in 
the  personality  of  God  is  weak,  or  is  altogether  wanting, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  pantheistic  religions  of  the  East, 
the  perception  which  men  have  of  their  own  personality 
is  found  to  be  in  an  equal  degree  indistinct.  The  feel¬ 
ing  of  individuality  is  dormant.  The  soul  indolently 
ascribes  to  itself  a  merely  phenomenal  being.  It  con¬ 
ceives  of  itself  as  appearing  for  a  moment,  like  a  wav© 

i 


2  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


let  on  the  ocean,  to  vanish  again  in  the  all-ingulfing 
essence  whence  it  emerged.  Recent  philosophical  theo¬ 
ries  which  substitute  matter,  or  an  “  Unknowable,”  for 
the  self-conscious  Deity,  likewise  dissipate  the  person¬ 
ality  of  man  as  ordinarily  conceived.  If  they  deny  that 
God  is  a  Spirit,  they  deny  with  equal  emphasis  that 
man  is  a  spirit.  The  pantheistic  and  atheistic  schemes 
are  in  this  respect  consistent  in  their  logic.  Out  of 
man’s  perception  of  his  own  personal  attributes  arises 
the  belief  in  a  personal  God.  On  this  fact  of  our  own 
personality  tie  validity  of  the  arguments  for  theism 
depends. 

The  essential  characteristics  of  personality  are  self* 
consciousness  and  self-determination:  that  is  to  say, 
these  are  the  elements  common  to  all  spiritual  beings. 
Perception,  whether  its  object  be  material  or  mental, 
involves  a  perceiving  subject.  The  “  cogito  ergo  sum  ” 
of  Descartes  is  not  properly  an  argument.  I  do  not 
deduce  my  existence  from  the  fact  of  my  putting  forth 
an  act  of  thought.  The  Cartesian  maxim  simply  denotes 
that  in  the  act  the  agent  is  of  necessity  brought  to  light, 
or  disclosed  to  himself.  He  becomes  cognizant  of  him¬ 
self  in  the  fluctuating  states  of  thought,  feeling  and 
volition.  This  apprehension  of  self  is  intuitive.  It  is 
not  an  idea  of  self  that  emerges,  not  a  bare  phenome¬ 
non,  as  some  philosophers  have  contended ;  but  the  ego 
is  immediately  presented,  and  there  is  an  inexpugnable 
conviction  of  its  reality.  Idealism,  or  the  doctrine  that 
sense-perception  is  a  modification  of  the  mind  that  is  due 
exclusively  to  its  own  nature,  and  is  elicited  by  no  object 
exterior  to  itself,  is  less  repugnant  to  reason  than  is  the 
denial  of  the  reality  of  the  ego.  Whatever  may  be  true 
of  external  things,  of  self  we  have  an  intuitive  knowl¬ 
edge.  If  I  judge  that  there  is  no  real  table  before  me 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 


8 


on  which  I  seem  to  be  writing,  and  no  corporeal  organs 
for  seeing  or  touching  it,  I  nevertheless  cannot  escape 
the  conviction  that  it  is  I  who  thus  judge.  To  talk  of 
thought  without  a  thinker,  of  belief  without  a  believer, 
is  to  utter  words  void  of  meaning.  The  unity  and 
enduring  identity  of  the  ego  are  necessarily  involved  in 
self-consciousness.  I  know  myself  as  a  single,  separate 
entity.  Personal  identity  is  presupposed  in  every  act 
of  memory.  Go  back  as  far  as  recollection  can  carry  us, 
it  is  the  same  self  who  was  the  subject  of  all  the  mental 
experiences  which  memory  can  recall.  When  I  was  a 
child  I  spake  as  a  child,  I  understood  as  a  child,  I 
thought  as  a  child ;  but  I  who  utter  these  words  am  the 
same  being  that  I  was  a  score  or  threescore  years  ago. 
I  look  forward  to  the  future,  and  know  that  it  is  upon 
me,  and  not  upon  another,  that  the  consequences  of  my 
actions  will  be  visited.  In  the  endless  succession  of 
thoughts,  feelings,  choices,  in  all  the  mutations  of  opin¬ 
ion  and  of  character,  the  identity  of  the  ego  abides. 
From  the  dawn  of  consciousness  to  my  last  breath,  I  do 
not  part  with  myself.  “  If  we  speak  of  the  mind  as  a 
series  of  feelings  which  is  aware  of  itself  as  past  and 
future,  we  are  reduced  to  the  alternative  of  believing 
that  the  mind,  or  ego ,  is  something  different  from  any 
series  of  feelings,  or  of  accepting  the  paradox  that  some¬ 
thing  which  is  ex  hypothesi  but  a  series  of  feelings  can 
be  aware  of  itself  as  a  series.”  So  writes  Stuart  Mill. 
Yet,  on  the  basis  of  this  astounding  assumption,  that 
a  series  can  be  self-conscious,  he  was  minded  to  frame 
his  philosophy,  and  was  only  deterred  by  the  insur¬ 
mountable  difficulty  of  supposing  memory  with  no 
being  capable  of  remembering. 

The  second  constituent  element  of  personality  is  self- 
determination.  This  act  is  likewise  essential  to  distinct 


4  THE  GROUNDS  OF  TIIEIS1TC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


self-consciousness.  Were  there  no  exercise  of  will,  were 
the  mind  wholly  passive  under  all  impressions  from 
without,  the  clear  consciousness  of  self  would  never  be 
evoked.  In  truth,  self  in  that  case  would  have  only  an 
inchoate  being.  That  I  originate  my  voluntary  actions 
in  the  sense  that  they  are  not  the  effect  or  necessary 
consequence  of  antecedents,  whether  in  the  mind  or 
out  of  it,  is  a  fact  of  consciousness.  This  is  what  is 
meant  by  the  freedom  of  the  will.  It  is  a  definition  of 
“  choice.”  Thoughts  spring  up  in  the  mind,  and  suc¬ 
ceed  one  another  under  laws  of  association  whose  abso¬ 
lute  control  is  limited  only  by  the  power  we  have  of 
fastening  the  attention  on  one  object  or  another  within 
the  horizon  of  consciousness.  Desires  reaching  out  to 
various  forms  of  good  spring  up  unbidden :  they,  too, 
are  subject  to  regulation  through  no  power  inherent  in 
themselves.  But  self-determination,  as  the  very  term 
signifies,  is  attended  with  an  irresistible  conviction  that 
the  direction  of  the  will  is  self-imparted.  We  leave  out 
of  account  here  the  nature  of  habit,  or  the  tendency  of 
choice  once  made  or  often  repeated  to  perpetuate  itself. 
That  a  moral  bondage  may  ensue  from  an  abuse  of  lib¬ 
erty  is  conceded.  The  mode  and  degree  in  which  habit 
affects  freedom  is  an  important  topic;  but  it  is  one 
which  we  do  not  need  to  consider  in  this  place. 
That  the  will  is  free  —  that  is,  both  exempt  from  con¬ 
straint  by  causes  exterior,  which  is  fatalism,  and  not 
a  mere  spontaneity,  confined  to  one  path  by  a  force  act¬ 
ing  from  within,  which  is  determinism  —  is  immediately 
evident  to  every  unsophisticated  mind.  We  can  ini¬ 
tiate  action  by  an  efficiency  which  is  neither  irresis¬ 
tibly  controlled  by  motives,  nor  determined,  without 
any  capacity  of  alternative  action,  by  a  proneness  in¬ 
herent  in  its  nature.  No  truth  is  more  definitely  sane' 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN.  5 

tioned  by  the  common  sense  of  mankind.  Those  who 
in  theory  reject  it,  continually  assert  it  in  practice. 
The  languages  of  men  would  have  to  be  reconstructed, 
the  business  of  the  world  would  come  to  a  stand  still, 
if  the  denial  of  the  freedom  of  the  will  were  to  be  car¬ 
ried  out  with  rigorous  consistency.  This  freedom  is  not 
only  attested  in  consciousness;  it  is  proved  by  that 
ability  to  resist  inducements  brought  to  bear  on  the 
mind  which  we  are  conscious  of  exerting.  We  can 
withstand  temptation  to  wrong  by  the  exertion  of  an 
energy  which  consciously  emanates  from  ourselves,  and 
which  we  know  that,  the  circumstances  remaining  the 
same,  we  could  abstain  from  exerting.  Motives  have 
an  influence ,  but  influence  is  not  to  be  confounded  with 
causal  efficiency.  Praise  and  blame,  and  the  punish¬ 
ments  and  rewards,  of  whatever  kind,  which  imply 
these  judgments,  are  plainly  irrational,  save  on  the  tacit 
assumption  of  the  autonomy  of  the  will.  Deny  free¬ 
will,  and  remorse,  as  well  as  self-approbation,  is  de¬ 
prived  of  an  essential  ingredient.  It  is  then  impossible 
to  distinguish  remorse  from  regret.  Ill-desert  becomes 
a  fiction.  This  is  not  to  argue  against  the  necessarian 
doctrine,  merely  on  the  ground  of  its  bad  tendencies. 
It  is  true  that  the  debasement  of  the  individual,  and 
the  wreck  of  social  order,  would  follow  upon  the 
unflinching  adoption  of  the  necessarian  theory  in  the 
judgments  and  conduct  of  men.  Virtue  would  no  more 
be  thought  to  deserve  love :  crime  would  no  longer  be 
felt  to  deserve  hatred.  But,  independently  of  this 
aspect  of  the  subject,  there  is,  to  say  the  least,  a  strong 
presumption  against  the  truth  of  a  theorem  in  philoso¬ 
phy  that  clashes  with  the  common  sense  and  moral 
6entiments  of  the  race.  The  awe-inspiring  sense  of 
responsibility,  the  sting  of  remorse,  emotions  of  moral 


6  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


condemnation  and  moral  approval,  ought  not  to  be 
treated  as  deceptive,  unless  they  can  be  demonstrated 
to  be  so.  Here  are  phenomena  which  no  metaphysical 
scheme  can  afford  to  ignore.  Surely  a  theory  can 
Lever  look  for  general  acceptance  which  is  obliged  to 
misinterpret  or  explain  away  these  familiar  facts  of 
human  nature. 

How  shall  the  feeling  that  we  are  free  be  accounted 
for  if  it  be  contrary  to  the  fact?  Let  us  glance  at 
what  famous  necessarians  have  to  say  in  answer  to  this 
inquiry.  First,  let  us  hear  one  of  the  foremost  repre¬ 
sentatives  of  this  school.  His  solution  is  one  that  has 
often  been  repeated.  “  Men  believe  themselves  to  be 
free,”  says  Spinoza,  “  entirely  from  this,  that,  though 
conscious  of  their  acts,  they  are  ignorant  of  the  causes 
by  which  their  acts  are  determined.  The  idea  of  free¬ 
dom,  therefore,  comes  of  men  not  knowing  the  cause  of 
their  acts.”  1  This  is  a  bare  assertion,  confidently  made, 
but  absolutely  without  proof.  It  surely  is  not  a  seif- 
evident  truth  that  our  belief  in  freedom  arises  in  this 
manner.  Further:  when  we  make  the  motives  pre¬ 
ceding  any  particular  act  of  choice  the  object  of  deliber¬ 
ate  attention,  the  sense  of  freedom  is  not  in  the  least 
weakened.  The  motives  are  distinctly  seen ;  yet  the 
consciousness  of  liberty,  or  of  a  pluripotential  power, 
remains  in  full  vigor.  Moreover,  choice  is  not  the  re¬ 
sultant  of  motives,  as  in  a  case  of  the  composition  of 
forces.  One  motive  is  followed,  and  its  rival  rejected. 
Ilume  has  another  explanation  of  what  he  considers 
the  delusive  feeling  of  freedom.  “  Our  idea,”  he  says, 
“of  necessity  and  causation  arises  entirely  from  the 
uniformity  observable  in  the  operations  of  nature,  where 
similar  objects  are  constantly  conjoined  together,  and 

1  Ethics,  P.  ii.  prop.  ixxy. 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 


7 


the  mind  is  determined  by  custom  to  infer  the  one  from 
the  appearance  of  the  other.”  1  This  constant  conjunc¬ 
tion  of  things  is  all  that  we  know ;  but  men  have  “  a 
strong  propensity  ”  to  believe  in  “  something  like  a 
necessary  connection  ”  between  the  antecedent  and  the 
consequent.  “  When,  again,  they  turn  their  reflections 
towards  the  operations  of  their  own  minds,  and  feel  no 
such  connection  of  the  motive  and  the  action,  they  are 
thence  apt  to  suppose  that  there  is  a  difference  between 
the  effects  which  result  from  material  force,  and  those 
which  arise  from  thought  and  intelligence.”  2  In  other 
words,  a  double  delusion  is  asserted.  First,  the  mind, 
for  some  unexplained  reason,  falsely  imagines  a  tie 
between  the  material  antecedent  and  consequent,  and 
then,  missing  such  a  bond  between  motive  and  choice, 
it  rashly  infers  freedom.  This  solution  depends  on  the 
theory  that  nothing  properly  called  power  exists.  It  is 
assumed  that  there  is  no  power,  either  in  motives  or  in 
the  will.  Hume’s  necessity,  unlike  that  of  Spinoza,  is 
mere  uniformity  of  succession,  choice  following  motive 
with  regularity,  but  with  no  nexus  between  the  two. 

Since  we  are  conscious  of  exerting  energy,  this 
theory,  which  holds  to  mere  sequence  without  connec¬ 
tion,  we  know  to  be  false.  J.  S.  Mill,  adopting  an 
identical  theory  of  causation,  from  which  power  is 
eliminated,  lands  in  the  same  general  conclusion,  on 
this  question  of  free-will,  as  that  reached  by  Hume. 
Herbert  Spencer  holds  that  the  fact  “  that  every  one  is 
at  liberty  to  do  what  he  desires  to  do  (supposing  there 
are  no  external  kinderances)”  is  the  sum  of  our  liberty. 
He  states  that  “the  dogma  of  free-will”  is  the  proposl- 

1  An  Enquiry  concerning  Human  Understanding,  P.  i.  §  8  (Essays, 
ad.  Green  and  Grose,  vol.  ii.  p.  67). 

a  Ibid.,  p.  76. 


8  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


tion  “that  every  one  is  at  liberty  to  desire  or  not  to 
desire.”  That  is,  he  confounds  choice  and  volition  with 
desire,  denies  the  existence  of  an  elective  power  distinct 
from  the  desires,  and  imputes  a  definition  of  free-will 
to  the  advocates  of  freedom  which  they  unanimously 
repudiate.  As  to  the  feeling  of  freedom,  Mr.  Spencer 
says,  “  The  illusion  consists  in  supposing  that  at  each 
moment  the  ego  is  something  more  than  the  aggregate 
of  feelings  and  ideas,  actual  and  nascent,  which  then 
exists.” 1  When  a  man  says  that  he  determined  to 
perform  a  certain  action,  his  error  is  in  supposing  his 
conscious  self  to  have  been  u  something  separate  from 
the  group  of  psychical  states”  constituting  his  “psychi¬ 
cal  self.”  The  “  composite  psychical  state  which  ex¬ 
cites  the  action  is  at  the  same  time  the  ego  which  is 
Maid  to  will  the  action.”  The  soul  is  resolved  into  a 
group  of  psychical  states  due  to  “  motor  changes  ”  ex¬ 
cited  by  an  impression  received  from  without.  If  there 
is  no  personal  agent,  if  I  is  a  collective  noun,  meaning 
a  “group  ”  of  sensations,  it  is  a  waste  of  time  to  argue 
that  there  is  no  freedom.  “What  we  call  a  mind,” 
wrote  Hume  long  ago,  “  is  nothing  but  a  heap  or  collec¬ 
tion  of  different  perceptions,  united  together  by  certain 
relations,  and  supposed,  though  falsely,  to  be  endowed 
with  a  perfect  simplicity  and  identity.”  Professor 
Huxley,  who  quotes  this  passage,  would  make  no  other 
correction  than  to  substitute  an  assertion  of  nescience 
for  the  positive  denial.  He  would  rather  say,  “  that  we 
know  nothing  more  of  the  mind  than  that  it  is  a  series 
of  perceptions.”  2 

Before  commenting  on  this  definition  of  the  mind, 
which  robs  it  of  its  unity,  it  is  worth  while  to  notice 

1  Principles  of  Psychology,  vol.  i.  p.  600. 

8  Huxley’s  Hume,  p.  61. 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 


9 


what  account  the  advocates  of  necessity  have  to  give 
of  the  feelings  of  praise  and  blame,  tenants  of  the  soul 
which  appear  to  claim  a  right  to  be  there,  and  which 
it  is  very  hard  even  for  speculative  philosophers  to  dis¬ 
lodge.  On  this  topic  Spinoza  is  remarkably  chary  of 
explanation.  UI  designate  as  gratitude ,”  he  says,  “the 
feeling  we  experience  from  the  acting  of  another,  done, 
as  we  imagine,  to  gratify  us ;  and  aversion,  the  uneasy 
sense  we  experience  when  we  imagine  any  thing  done 
with  a  view  to  our  disadvantage  ;  and,  whilst  we  praise 
the  former,  we  are  disposed  to  blame  the  latter.”1 
What  does  Spinoza  mean  by  the  phrase  “with  a  view 
to  our  advantage”  or  “disadvantage”?  As  the  acts 
done,  in  either  case,  were  unavoidable  on  the  part  of  the 
doer,  —  as  much  so  as  the  circulation  of  blood  in  his 
veins, — it  is  impossible  to  see  any  reasonableness  in 
praise  or  blame,  thankfulness  or  resentment.  Why 
should  we  resent  the  blow  of  an  assassin  more  than  the 
kick  of  a  horse  ?  Why  should  we  be  any  more  grateful 
to  a  benefactor  than  we  are  to  the  sun  for  shining  on 
us?  If  the  sun  were  conscious  of  shining  on  us,  and 
of  shining  on  us  “  with  a  view  ”  to  warm  us,  in  Spinoza’s 
meaning  of  the  phrase,  but  with  not  the  least  power  to 
do  otherwise,  how  would  that  consciousness  found  a 
claim  to  our  gratitude?  When  Spinoza  proceeds  to 
define  “just”  and  “unjust,”  “sin”  and  “merit,”  he 
broaches  a  theory  not  dissimilar  to  that  of  Hobbes, 
that  there  is  no  natural  law  but  the  desires,  that  “  in 
the  state  of  nature  there  is  nothing  done  that  can 
properly  be  characterized  as  just  or  unjust,”  that  in 
“the  natural  state,”  prior  to  the  organization  of  society, 
“faults,  offences,  crimes,  cannot  be  conceived.”2  As 

1  Ethics,  P.  iii.  prop.  xxix.  schol. 

2  Ethics,  P.  iv.  prop,  xxxvii.  schol.  2. 


10  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 

for  repentance,  Spinoza  does  not  hesitate  to  lay  down 
the  thesis  that  “  repentance  is  not  a  virtue,  or  does  not 
arise  from  reason  ;  but  he  who  repents  of  any  deed  he 
has  done  is  twice  miserable  or  impotent.”  1  Penitence 
is  defined  as  “  sorrow  accompanying  the  idea  of  some¬ 
thing  we  believe  we  have  done  of  free-will.”2  It 
mainly  depends,  he  tells  us,  on  education.  Since  free¬ 
will  is  an  illusive  notion,  penitence  must  be  inferred 
to  be  in  the  same  degree  irrational.  To  these  immoral 
opinions  the  advocates  of  necessity  are  driven  when 
they  stand  face  to  face  with  the  phenomena  of  con¬ 
science. 

Mill,  in  seeking  to  vindicate  the  consistency  of  pun¬ 
ishment  with  his  doctrine  of  determinism,  maintains 
that  it  is  right  to  punish ;  first,  as  penalty  tends  to  re¬ 
strain  and  cure  an  evil-doer,  and  secondly,  as  it  tends  to 
secure  society  from  aggression.  “  It  is  just  to  punish,” 
he  says,  “so  far  as  it  is  necessary  for  this  purpose,” 
for  the  security  of  society,  “  exactly  as  it  is  just  to  put 
a  wild  beast  to  death  (without  unnecessary  suffering) 
for  the  same  object.”3  It  will  hardly  be  asserted  by 
any  one  that  a  brute  deserves  punishment,  in  the  accept¬ 
ed  meaning  of  the  terms.  Later,  Mill  attempts  to  find 
a  basis  for  a  true  responsibility ;  but  in  doing  so  he  vir¬ 
tually,  though  unwittingly,  surrenders  his  necessarian 
theory.  “  The  true  doctrine  of  the  causation  of  human 
actions  maintains,”  he  says,  “  that  not  only  our  conduct, 
but  our  character,  is  in  part  amenable  to  our  will ;  that 
we  can,  by  employing  the  proper  means,  improve  our 
character ;  and  that  if  our  character  is  such,  that,  while 
it  remains  what  it  is,  it  necessitates  us  to  do  wrong,  it 
will  be  just  to  apply  motives  which  will  necessitate  us 

1  Ethics,  P.  iv.  prop.  liv.  2  P.  iii.  def.  27. 

*  Examination  of  Sir  W.  Hamilton’s  Philosophy,  vol.  ii.  p.  29& 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 


11 


to  strive  for  its  improvement,  and  to  emancipate  ourselves 
from  the  other  necessity.”  1  Here,  while  verbally  hold 
ing  to  his  theory  of  the  deterministic  agency  of  motives, 
he  introduces  the  phrases  which  I  have  put  in  italics, — • 
phrases  which  carry  in  them  to  every  mind  the  idea 
of  free  personal  endeavor,  and  exclude  that  of  deter¬ 
minism.  “  The  true  doctrine  of  necessity,”  says  Mill, 
“  while  maintaining  that  our  character  is  formed  by  our 
circumstances,  asserts  at  the  same  time  that  our  desires 
can  do  much  to  alter  our  circumstances.”  But  how 
about  our  control  over  our  desires  ?  Have  we  any  more 
control,  direct  or  indirect,  over  them  than  over  our  cir¬ 
cumstances  ?  If  not,  “  the  true  doctrine  of  necessity  ” 
no  more  founds  responsibility  than  does  the  naked 
fatalism  which  Mill  disavows.  It  is  not  uncommon  for 
necessarian  writers,  it  may  be  unconsciously  to  them¬ 
selves,  to  cover  up  their  theory  by  affirming  that  actions 
are  the  necessary  fruit  of  a  character  already  formed ; 
while  they  leave  room  for  the  supposition,  that,  in  the 
forming  of  that  character,  the  will  exerted  at  some  time 
an  independent  agency.  But  such  an  agency,  it  need 
not  be  said,  at  whatever  point  it  is  placed,  is  incompati¬ 
ble  with  their  main  doctrine. 

The  standing  argument  for  necessity,  drawn  out  by 
Hobbes,  Collins,  et  id  omne  genus ,  is  based  on  the  law 
of  cause  and  effect.  It  is  alleged,  that  if  motives  are 
not  efficient  in  determining  the  will,  then  an  event  — 
namely,  the  particular  direction  of  the  will  in  a  case  of 
choice,  or  the  choice  of  one  object  rather  than  another 
—  is  without  a  cause.  This  has  been  supposed  to  be  an 
invincible  argument.  In  truth,  however,  the  event  in 
question  is  not  without  a  cause  in  the  sense  that  would 
be  true  of  an  event  wholly  disconnected  from  an  effi* 
1  Examination  of  Sir  W.  Hamilton’s  Philosophy,  vol.  ii.  p.  299. 


12  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


cient  antecedent,  —  of  a  world,  for  example,  springing 
into  being  without  a  Creator.  The  mind  is  endued 
with  the  power  to  act  in  either  of  two  directions,  the 
proper  circumstances  being  present ;  and,  whichever  way 
it  may  actually  move,  its  motion  is  its  own,  the  result 
of  its  own  power.  That  the  mind  is  not  subject  to  the 
law  of  causation  which  holds  good  elsewhere  than  in 
the  sphere  of  intelligent,  voluntary  action,  is  the  very 
thing  asserted.  Self-motion,  initial  motion,  is  the  dis¬ 
tinctive  attribute  of  spiritual  agents.  The  prime  error 
of  the  necessarian  is  in  unwarrantably  assuming  that 
the  mind  in  its  voluntary  action  is  subject  to  the  same 
law  which  prevails  in  the  realm  of  things  material  and 
unintelligent.  This  opinion  is  not  only  false,  but  shal¬ 
low.  For  where  do  we  first  get  our  idea  of  power  or 
causal  energy?  Where  but  from  the  exertion  of  our 
own  wills?  If  we  exerted  no  voluntary  agency,  we 
should  have  no  idea  of  causal  efficiency.  Being  outside 
of  the  circle  of  our  experience,  causation  would  be 
utterly  unknown.  Necessarians,  among  whom  are  in¬ 
cluded  at  the  present  day  many  students  of  physical 
science,  frequently  restrict  their  observation  to  things 
without  themselves,  and,  having  formulated  a  law  of 
causation  for  the  objects  with  which  they  are  chiefly  con¬ 
versant,  they  forthwith  extend  it  over  the  mind,  —  aL 
entity  toto  genere  different.  They  should  remember  that 
the  very  terms  “free,”  “power,”  “energy,”  “cause,” 
are  only  intelligible  from  the  experience  we  have  of  the 
exercise  of  will.  They  are  applied  in  some  modified 
sense  to  things  external.  But  we  are  immediately  cog¬ 
nizant  of  no  cause  but  will:  and  the  nature  of  that 
cause  must  be  learned  from  consciousness ;  it  can  never 
be  learned  from  an  inspection  of  things  heterogeneous 
to  the  mind,  and  incapable  by  themselves  of  imparting 
to  it  the  faintest  notion  of  power. 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 


ia 


But  it  is  objected,  that  if  the  operations  of  the  will 
are  not  governed  by  law,  psychologic  science  is  impos¬ 
sible.  “Psychical  changes,”  says  Herbert  Spencer, 
“  either  conform  to  law,  or  they  do  not.  If  they  do  not 
conform  to  law,  this  work,  in  common  with  all  works 
on  the  subject,  is  sheer  nonsense :  no  science  of  psy¬ 
chology  is  possible.  If  they  do  conform  to  law,  there 
cannot  be  any  such  thing  as  free-will.”1  Were  uni¬ 
formity  found  to  characterize  the  self-determinations  of 
the  mind,  even  then  necessity  would  not  be  proved. 
Suppose  the  will  always  to  determine  itself  in  strict 
conformity  with  reason :  this  would  not  prove  con 
straint,  or  disprove  freedom.  If  it  were  shown,  that,  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  the  mind  always  chooses  in  the  same 
way,  the  antecedents  being  precisely  the  same,  neither 
fatalism  nor  determinism  would  be  a  legitimate  infer¬ 
ence.  If  it  be  meant,  by  the  conformity  of  the  will  to 
law,  that  no  man  has  the  power  to  choose  otherwise 
than  he  actually  chooses;  that,  to  take  an  example 
from  moral  conduct,  no  thief,  or  seducer,  or  assassin, 
was  capable  of  any  such  previous  exertion  of  will  as 
would  have  resulted  in  his  abstaining  from  the  crimes 
which  he  has  perpetrated,  —  then  every  reasonable,  not 
to  say  righteous, .person  will  deny  the  assertion.  The 
alternative  that  a  work  on  psychology,  so  far  as  it  rests 
on  a  theory  of  fatalism,  is  “  sheer  nonsense,”  it  is  far 
better  to  endure  than  to  fly  in  the  face  of  common 
sense  and  of  the  conscience  of  the  race.  A  book  of 
ethics  constructed  on  the  assumption  that  the  free  and 
responsible  nature  of  man  is  an  illusive  notion  merits 
no  higher  respect  than  the  postulate  on  which  it  is 
founded. 

Besides  the  argument  against  freedom  from  tha 

1  Psychology,  i.  503. 


14  TIIE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


alleged  violation  of  the  law  of  causation  which  it  in¬ 
volves,  there  is  a  second  objection  which  is  frequently 
urged.  We  are  reminded  that  there  is  an  order  of 
history.  Events,  we  are  told,  within  the  sphere  of  vol¬ 
untary  agency  succeed  each  other  with  regularity  of 
sequence.  We  can  predict  what  individuals  will  do 
with  a  considerable  degree  of  confidence,  —  with  as 
much  confidence  as  could  be  expected,  considering  the 
complexity  of  the  phenomena.  There  is  a  progress  of 
a  community  and  of  mankind  which  evinces  a  reign 
of  law  within  the  compass  of  personal  action.  The  con¬ 
duct  of  one  generation  is  shaped  by  the  conduct  of 
that  which  precedes  it. 

That  there  is  a  plan  in  the  course  of  human  affairs, 
all  believers  in  Providence  hold.  History  does  not 
exhibit  a  chaotic  succession  of  occurrences,  but  a  sys¬ 
tem,  a  progressive  order,  to  be  more  or  less  clearly  dis¬ 
cerned.  The  inference,  however,  that  the  wills  of  men 
are  not  free,  is  rashly  drawn.  If  it  be  thought  that  we 
are  confronted  with  two  apparently  antagonistic  truths, 
whose  point  of  reconciliation  is  beyond  our  ken,  the 
situation  'would  have  its  parallels  in  other  branches  of 
human  inquiry.  We  should  be  justified  in  holding  to 
each  truth  on  its  own  grounds,  since  each  is  sufficiently 
verified,  and  in  waiting  for  the  solution  of  the  problem. 
But  the  whole  objection  can  be  shown  to  rest,  in  great 
part,  on  misunderstanding  of  the  doctrine  of  free-will, 
Freedom  does  not  involve,  of  necessity,  a  wild  depart¬ 
ure  from  all  regularity  in  the  actual  choices  of  men 
under  the  same  circumstances.  That  men  do  act  in 
one  way,  in  the  presence  of  given  circumstances,  does 
not  prove  that  they  must  so  act.  Again :  those  who 
propound  this  objection  fail  to  discern  the  real  points 
along  the  path  of  developing  character  where  freedom 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 


15 


is  exercised.  They  often  fail  to  perceive  that  there  are 
habits  of  will  which  are  the  result  of  self-determination, 
—  habits  for  which  men  are  responsible  so  far  as  they  are 
morally  right  or  wrong,  but  which  exist  within  them  as 
abiding  purposes  or  voluntary  principles  of  conduct. 
Of  a  man  who  loves  money  better  than  any  thing  else, 
it  may  be  predicted  that  he  will  seize  upon  any  occa¬ 
sion  that  offers  itself  to  make  an  advantageous  bargain. 
But  this  love  of  money  is  a  voluntary  principle  which 
he  can  curb,  and,  influenced  by  moral  considerations, 
supplant  by  a  higher  motive  of  conduct.  The  fact  of 
habit,  voluntary  habit,  founded  ultimately  on  choice, 
practically  circumscribes  the  variableness  of  action, 
and  contributes  powerfully  to  the  production  of  a  cer¬ 
tain  degree  of  uniformity  of  conduct,  on  which  pre¬ 
diction  as  to  what  individuals  will  do  is  founded.  But 
all  prophecies  in  regard  to  the  future  conduct  of  men, 
or  societies  of  men,  are  liable  to  fail,  not  merely  because 
of  the  varied  and  complicated  data  in  the  case  of 
human  action,  but  because  new  influences,  not  in  the 
least  coercive,  may  set  at  defiance  all  statistical  vatici¬ 
nations.  A  religious  reform,  like  that  of  Wesley,  gives 
rise  to  the  alteration  of  the  conduct  of  multitudes, 
changes  the  face  of  society  in  extensive  districts,  and 
upsets  previous  calculations  as  to  the  percentage  of 
crime,  for  example,  to  be  expected  in  the  regions  af¬ 
fected.  The  seat  of  moral  freedom  is  deep  in  the  radi¬ 
cal  self-determinations  by  which  the  supreme  ends  of 
conduct,  the  motives  of  life  in  the  aggregate,  are  fixed. 
Kant  had  a  profound  perception  of  this  truth,  although 
he  erred  in  limiting  absolutely  the  operations  of  free-will 
to  the  “noumenal”  sphere,  and  in  relegating  all  moral 
conduct,  except  the  primal  choice,  to  the  realm  of  phe¬ 
nomenal  and  therefore  necessary  action.  A  theist  finds 


16  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEIST1C  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

no  difficulty  in  ascribing  moral  evil  wholly  to  the  will 
of  the  creature,  and  in  accounting  for  the  orderly  suc- 
cession  of  events,  or  the  plan  of  history,  by  the  over¬ 
ruling  agency  of  God,  which  has  no  need  to  interfere 
with  human  liberty,  or  to  coerce  or  crush  the  free  and 
responsible  nature  of  man,  but  knows  how  to  pilot  the 
race  onward,  be  the  rocks  and  cross-currents  where  and 
what  they  may. 

Self-consciousness  and  self-determination,  each  involv¬ 
ing  the  other,  are  the  essential  peculiarities  of  mind- 
With  self-determination  is  inseparably  connected  pur. 
pose.  The  intelligent  action  of  the  will  is  for  an  end  ; 
and  this  preconceived  end  —  which  is  last  in  the  order 
of  time,  though  first  in  thought  —  is  termed  the  final 
cause.  It  is  the  goal  to  which  the  volitions  dictated 
by  it  point  and  lead.  So  simple  an  act  of  will  as  the 
volition  to  lift  a  finger  is  for  a  purpose.  The  thought 
of  the  result  to  be  effected  precedes  that  efficient  act  of 
the  will  by  which,  in  some  inscrutable  way,  the  requi¬ 
site  muscular  motion  is  produced.  I  purpose  to  send  a 
letter  to  a  friend.  There  is  a  plan  present  in  thought, 
before  it  is  resolved  upon,  or  converted  into  an  inten¬ 
tion,  and  prior  to  the  several  exertions  of  voluntary 
power  by  which  it  is  accomplished.  Guided  by  this 
plan,  I  enter  my  library,  open  a  drawer,  find  the  proper 
writing-materials,  compose  the  letter,  seal  it,  and  de¬ 
spatch  it.  Here  is  a  series  of  voluntary  actions  done  in 
pursuance  of  a  plan  which  antedated  them  in  conscious¬ 
ness,  and  through  them  is  realized.  The  movements 
of  brain  and  muscle  which  take  place  in  the  course  of 
the  proceeding  are  subservient  to  the  conscious  plan 
by  which  all  the  power  employed  in  realizing  it  is 
directed.  This  is  rational  voluntary  action :  it  is  action 
for  an  end.  In  this  way  the  whole  business  of  human 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 


17 


life  is  carried  forward.  All  that  is  termed  “art,”  in  the 
broadest  meaning  of  the  word,  —  that  is,  all  that  is  not 
included  either  in  the  products  of  material  nature,  which 
the  wit  and  power  of  men  can  neither  produce  nor  mod¬ 
ify,  or  in  the  strictly  involuntary  states  of  mind  with 
their  physical  effects,  —  comes  into  being  in  the  way 
described.  The  conduct  of  men  in  their  individual 
capacity,  the  organization  of  families  and  states,  the 
government  of  nations,  the  management  of  armies,  the 
diversified  pursuits  of  industry,  whatever  is  because 
men  have  willed  it  to  be,  is  due  to  self-determination 
involving  design. 

There  have  been  philosophers  to  maintain  that  man 
is  an  automaton.  All  that  he  does,  they  have  ascribed 
to  a  chain  of  causes  wholly  embraced  within  a  circle  of 
nervous  and  muscular  movements.  Some,  finding  it 
impossible  to  ignore  consciousness,  have  contented  them¬ 
selves  with  denying  to  conscious  states  causal  agency. 
On  this  view  it  follows  that  the  plan  to  take  a  journey, 
to  build  a  house,  or  to  do  any  thing  else  which  presup¬ 
poses  design,  has  no  influence  whatever  upon  the  result. 
The  same  efforts  would  be  produced  if  we  were  utterly 
unconscious  of  any  intention  to  bring  them  to  pass. 
The  design,  not  being  credited  with  the  least  influence 
or  control  over  the  instruments  through  which  the  par¬ 
ticular  end  is  reached,  might  be  subtracted  without 
affecting  the  result.  Since  consciousness  neither  origi¬ 
nates  nor  transmits  motion,  and  thus  exerts  no  power, 
the  effects  of  what  we  call  voluntary  agency  would  take 
place  as  well  without  it.  This  creed,  when  it  is  once 
clearly  understood,  is  not  likely  to  win  many  adherents.3 

1  For  a  clear  exposition  of  the  consequences  of  denying  the  agency 
of  mind,  see  Herbert,  The  Realistic  Assumptions  of  Modern  Scienca 
«tc.,  pp.  103  seq.,  128  seq. 


18  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

The  scientific  doctrine  of  the  conservation  of  energy 
is  entirely  consistent  with  the  freedom  of  the  will  and 
with  the  reciprocal  influence  of  mind  and  body.  The 
doctrine  is,  that  as  the  sum  of  matter  remains  the  same, 
so  is  it  with  the  sum  of  energy,  potential  or  in  action, 
in  any  body  or  system  of  bodies.  Energy  may  be  trans¬ 
mitted;  that  is,  lost  in  one  body,  it  re-appears  undimin¬ 
ished  in  another,  or,  ceasing  in  one  form,  it  is  exerted  in 
another,  and  this  according  to  definite  ratios.  In  other 
words,  there  is  a  correlation  of  the  physical  forces. 
While  this  is  true,  there  is  not  the  slightest  evidence 
that  mental  action  is  caused  by  the  transmitting  of 
energy  from  the  physical  system.  Nor  is  there  any 
proof  that  the  mind  transfers  additional  energy  to  mat¬ 
ter.  Nor,  again,  is  there  the  slightest  evidence  that 
mental  action  is  correlated  with  physical.  That  mental 
action  is  affected  by  physical  change  is  evident.  That 
the  mind  acts  upon  the  brain,  modifying  its  state,  exert¬ 
ing  a  directive  power  upon  the  nerve-centres,  is  equally 
certain.  The  doctrine  of  conservation,  as  its  best  ex¬ 
pounders  - —  Clerk  Maxwell,  for  example  —  have  per¬ 
ceived,  does  not  militate  in  the  least  against  the  limited 
control  of  the  human  will  and  the  supreme  control  of 
the  divine. 

Attending  the  inward  assurance  of  freedom  is  the 
consciousness  of  moral  law.  While  I  know  that  I  can 
do  or  forbear,  I  feel  that  I  ought  or  ought  not.  The 
desires  of  human  nature  are  various.  They  go  forth 
to  external  good,  which  reaches  the  mind  through  the 
channel  of  the  senses.  They  go  out  also  to  objects  less 
tangible,  as  power,  fame,  knowledge,  the  esteem  of 
others.  But  distinct  from  these  diverse,  and,  it  may  be, 
conflicting  desires,  a  law  manifests  itself  in  conscious 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 


19 


ness,  and  lays  its  authoritative  mandate  on  the  will. 
The  requirement  of  that  law  in  the  concrete  maj  be 
differently  conceived.  It  may  often  be  grossly  misappre¬ 
hended.  But  the  feeling  of  obligation  is  an  ineradicable 
element  of  our  being.  It  is  universal,  or  as  nearly 
so  as  the  perception  of  beauty  or  any  other  essential 
attribute  of  the  soul.  No  ethical  theory  can  dispense 
with  it.  It  implies  an  ideal  or  end  which  the  will  is 
freely  to  realize.  Be  this  end  clearly  or  dimly  discerned, 
and  though  it  be  in  a  great  degree  misconceived,  its 
existence  is  implied  in  the  imperative  character  of  the 
law  within.  The  confusion  that  may  arise  in  respect 
to  the  contents  of  the  law  and  the  end  to  which  the 
law  points  does  not  disprove  the  reality  of  either.  A 
darkened  and  perverted  conscience  is  still  a  conscience. 

All  explanations  of  the  origin  of  religion  which  refer 
it  to  an  empirical  or  accidental  source  are  superficial. 
The  theory  that  religious  beliefs  spring  from  tradition 
fails  to  give  any  account  of  their  origin,  to  say  nothing 
of  their  chronic  continuance  and  of  the  tremendous 
power  which  they  exert  among  men.  The  notion  that 
religions  are  the  invention  of  shrewd  statesmen  and 
rulers,  devised  as  a  means  of  managing  the  populace, 
probably  has  no  advocates  at  present.  It  belongs 
among  the  obsolete  theories  of  free-thinkers  in  the  last 
century.  How  could  religion  be  made  so  potent  an 
instrument  if  its  roots  were  not  deep  in  human  nature? 
“  Timor  facit  deos,”  is  another  opinion.  It  has  the 
sanction  of  Lucretius.  Religion  is  supposed,  on  this 
view,  to  be  due  to  the  effect  on  rude  minds  of  storms, 
convulsions  of  nature,  and  other  phenomena  which 
inspired  terror,  and  were  referred  to  supernatural 
beings.  It  is  a  shallow  hypothesis,  which  overlooks  the 


20  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

fact  that  impressions  of  this  kind  are  fleeting.  They 
alternate,  also,  with  aspects  of  nature  of  an  entirely 
different  character.  If  nature  is  terrific,  it  is  also 
gracious  and  bountiful.  Moreover,  as  far  back  as  we 
can  trace  the  history  of  mythological  religions,  we  find 
that  the  divinities  which  the  mythopoeic  fancy  calls  into 
being  are  of  a  protecting  or  beneficent  character.  A 
favorite  view  of  a  school  of  anthropologists  at  present 
is,  that  religion  began  in  fetich-worship,  and  rose  by 
degrees  through  the  worship  of  animals  to  a  conception 
of  loftier  deities  conceived  of  as  clothed  in  human  form. 
Against  this  speculation  lies  the  fact,  that  the  earliest 
mythological  deities  which  history  brings  to  our  notice 
were  heavenly  beings  whose  loftiness  impressed  the 
mind  with  awe.  Even  where  fetich-worship  exists,  it 
is  not  the  material  object  itself  which  is  the  god. 
Rather  is  it  true  that  the  stick  or  stone  is  considered 
the  vehicle  or  embodiment  of  divine  agencies  acting 
through  it.  “  The  external  objects  of  nature  never 
appear  to  the  childish  fantasy  as  mere  things  of  sense, 
but  always  as  animated  beings,  which,  therefore,  in 
some  way  or  other,  include  in  themselves  a  spirit.” 1 
The  doctrine  that  religion  begins  in  a  worship  of  ances¬ 
tors,  not  to  dwell  on  other  objections  to  it,  does  not 
correspond  with  the  facts  of  history ;  since  divinities  in 
human  shape  were  not  the  earliest  objects  of  heathen 
worship.  The  earliest  supreme  divinity  of  the  Indo- 
European  race  was  the  shining  heaven,  which  was 
clothed  with  the  attributes  of  personality.  The  same 
answer  avails  against  the  supposition  that  religion  has 
its  origin  in  dreams,  wherein  the  images  of  the  dead  are 
presented  as  if  alive.  Influences  of  this  sort  have  had 
some  effect,  during  the  long  history  of  polytheism,  in 

1  Pfleidorer,  Religionspliilosophie,  p  319. 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 


21 


determining  the  particular  shape  which  mythologies 
have  assumed.  As  an  explanation  of  the  origin  of 
religion  itself,  and  of  its  hold  on  mankind,  they  are 
miserably  insufficient. 

Herbert  Spencer  is  one  of  the  writers  who  make  reli¬ 
gion  spring  proximately  out  of  ancestor-worship.1  An¬ 
cestor-worship  itself  he  would  explain  by  a  dream- theory 
and  a  ghost-theory  combined.  The  “  primitive  man,5’ 
who  is  so  far  off  as  to  give  room  for  any  number  of 
guesses  about  him,  mistakes  his  shadow  for  another  man, 
the  duplicate  of  himself.  Whether  he  makes  the  same 
mistake  about  every  rock  and  wigwam  from  which  a 
shadow  is  cast,  we  are  not  told.  His  image  seen  in  the 
water  gives  him  a  more  definite  idea  of  his  other  self. 
Echoes  help  still  more  in  the  same  direction.  Then  there 
is  the  distinction  between  “the  animate,”  or,  rather, 
animals,  and  “the  inanimate.”  Here  Spencer  rejects 
what  the  soundest  writers  on  mythology  all  hold,  that 
the  personifying  imagination  of  men,  who  as  regards 
reflection  are  children,  confounds  the  inanimate  with 
the  living.  The  lower  animals,  dogs  and  horses,  do  not ; 
and  is  man  below  them  in  knowledge  ?  This  position  of 
Spencer  is  characteristic  of  his  whole  theory.  If  man 
were  on  the  level  of  the  dog  or  the  horse,  if  he  were  not 
conscious,  in  some  degree,  of  will  and  personality,  then, 
like  them,  he  might  never  impute  to  rivers  and  streams 
and  trees  personal  life.  Dreams,  according  to  Spencer, 
create  the  fixed  belief  that  there  is  a  duplicate  man,  or 
soul,  that  wanders  off  from  the  body :  hence  the  belief 
that  the  dead  survive.  Naturally  they  become  objects  of 
reverence.  So  worship  begins.  Epilepsy,  insanity,  and 
the  like,  confirm  the  notion  that  ghosts  come  and  go. 
Temples  were  first  the  tombs  of  the  dead.  Fetiches 

1  The  Principles  of  Sociology,  vol.  i.  chap,  viii  seq. 


22  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF* 


were  parts  of  their  clothing.  Idols  were  their  images. 
The  belief  somehow  arises  that  human  beings  disguise 
themselves  as  animals.  Animal-worship  is  explained,  in 
part,  in  this  way,  but  mainly  by  a  blunder  of  “the  primi¬ 
tive  man.”  There  is  a  dearth  of  names :  human  beings 
are  named  after  beasts :  gradually  the  notion  takes  root 
that  the  animal  who  gave  the  name  was  the  parent  of 
the  family.  Plants  with  strange  intoxicating  qualities 
are  assumed  to  be  inhabited  by  ghosts.  Plant-worship 
is  the  result.  The  worship  of  nature,  the  worship,  for 
example,  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  is  the  result,  likewise, 
of  a  linguistic  blunder.  There  is  a  scanty  supply  of 
words.  Terms  applied  to  life  and  motion  are  figuratively 
attached  to  natural  objects.  The  moon  is  said  to  run 
away.  These  phrases  are  subsequently  taken  as  literal. 
The  exploded  solution  of  Euemerus,  that  the  gods  were 
human  beings,  magnified  in  the  fancy  of  later  times,  is 
brought  in  as  auxiliary  to  the  other  imagined  sources  of 
religion.  Thus  the  Pantheon  is  filled  out. 

Mr.  Spencer,  in  his  First  Principles ,  favored  the  idea 
that  religion  sprang  out  of  a  mistaken  application  of 
the  causal  principle  to  the  explanation  of  nature  and  of 
man.  The  later  theory  sketched  above  is  what  he  con¬ 
ceives  that  the  evolution  doctrine  demands.  Pie  differs, 
as  will  be  perceived,  from  the  archaeologists  who  make 
religion  start  with  fetichism.  He  administers  a  solemn 
rebuke  to  those  evolutionists  who  allow,  what  they,  like 
most  scholars,  feel  compelled  to  hold,  that  among  the 
Aryans  and  Semites  religion  cannot  be  traced  back 
to  ancestor-worship.  Such  evolutionists,  Mr.  Spencer 
gravely  observes,  are  not  loyal  to  their  theory :  they 
are  heterodox.1  The  circumstance  that  they  cannot  find 
facts  to  sustain  the  theory  as  regards  these  branches  of 

1  Principles  of  Sociology,  i.  313. 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 


23 


the  human  race  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  shake  theii 
faith. 

The  ingenious  mode  in  which  this  theory  is  wrought 
out  scarcely  avails  to  give  it  even  plausibility.  The 
transitions  from  point  to  point,  especially  from  the  lower 
to  the  higher  types  of  religion,  have  an  artificial,  far¬ 
fetched  character.  The  resort  for  evidence  is  not  to 
history,  the  source  whence,  if  anywhere,  satisfactory 
evidence  must  be  derived.  The  proofs  are  ethnographic. 
They  consist  of  scraps  of  information  respecting  scat¬ 
tered  tribes  of  savages,  mostly  tribes  which  now  exist. 
In  this  way,  isolated  phenomena  may,  no  doubt,  be  col¬ 
lected,  lending  a  show  of  support  to  the  speculation 
about  shadows,  dreams,  and  ghosts.  But  a  generaliza¬ 
tion  respecting  savage  races  cannot  be  safely  made  from 
miscellaneous  data  of  this  sort  What  proof  is  there  that 
“the  primitive  man ”  was  a  savage ?  This  assumption 
is  made  at  the  outset.  That  he  was  unlearned,  unciv¬ 
ilized,  is  one  thing.  That  he  was  a  fool,  that  he  was 
not  much  above  the  brute,  is  an  unverified  assertion. 
Degeneracy  is  not  only  a  possible  fact,  it  is  a  fact  which 
history  and  observation  prove  to  have  been  actual  in  the 
case  of  different  peoples.  Not  only  is  Mr.  Spencer’s 
theory  without  the  requisite  historical  proof ;  it  is  refut¬ 
ed  by  history.  The  worship  of  the  objects  of  nature, 
as  far  as  can  be  ascertained,  was  not  preceded  by  the 
worship  of  ancestors.  It  is  a  false  analogy  which  Mr. 
Spencer  adduces  from  the  worship  of  saints  in  the 
Church  of  Rome.  This  practice  did  not  precede  the 
worship  of  God :  primitive  Christianity  did  not  come 
after  mediaeval.1  It  is  remarkable,  that,  in  an  elaborate 

1  Sir  Henry  Maine,  wlio  recognizes  the  prevalence  of  ancestor-wor¬ 
ship,  remarks  that  the  theory  attached  to  it  “  has  been  made  to  account 
fer  more  than  it  will  readily  explain.”  — Dissertations  on  Early  Law 
and  Custom,  vol.  i.  p.  69. 


24  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


attempt  to  explain  the  rise  of  religion,  Mr.  Spencer 
should  say  nothing  of  the  great  founders  whose  teach¬ 
ing  lias  been  so  potent  that  eras  are  dated  from  them, 
and  multitudes  of  men,  for  ages,  have  enrolled  them¬ 
selves  among  their  disciples.  One  would  think  that 
Confucius,  Buddha,  Mohammed,  with  whatever  of  pe¬ 
culiar  illumination  each  possessed,  should  be  counted 
among  the  forces  concerned  in  developing  the  religions 
of  mankind.  But  the  evolution  doctrine,  in  the  phase 
of  it  which  Mr.  Spencer  advocates,  is  cut  off  from  doing 
justice  to  the  influence  of  individuals.  Here,  again,  his¬ 
tory  is  ignored.  If  religion  had  no  deeper  roots  than 
are  given  to  it  in  Mr.  Spencer’s  theory,  it  could  never 
have  gained,  much  less  have  maintained,  its  hold  upon 
men.  The  offspring,  at  every  step,  of  error  and  delu¬ 
sion,  it  would  have  been  short-lived.  Mr.  Spencer  has 
presented  suggestions  here  and  there,  of  value  in  the 
study  of  the  origin  of  superstitions ;  but  his  view  as  a 
whole  is  a  signal  instance  of  the  mischievous  conse¬ 
quences  of  servile  adhesion  to  a  metaphysical  theory,  to 
the  neglect  of  facts,  and  even  of  the  deeper  principles 
of  human  nature.  Even  as  an  account  of  the  rise  of 
certain  superstitions,  his  theory  needs  to  bring  in  as  one 
element  a  sense  of  the  supernatural,  a  yearning  for  a 
higher  communion.  The  dog  dreams.  The  dog  may 
dream  of  dogs  that  have  died,  or  even  of  deceased  men. 
but  he  does  not  worship  any  more  than  he  becomes  con¬ 
scious  of  having  within  him  a  soul. 

There  is  a  wide  interval  between  hypotheses  of  this 
character  and  the  more  elevated  theory  that  religion 
arises  from  the  perception  of  marks  of  design  in  nature. 
But  even  this  falls  short  of  being  a  satisfactory  solu¬ 
tion  of  the  problem.  Not  to  dwell  on  the  fact  that 
the  adaptations  of  nature  impress  different  minds  with 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 


25 


unequal  degrees  of  force,  or  on  the  fact  that  they  fail 
to  exhibit  the  infinitude  and  the  moral  attributes  of 
Deity,  it  is  evident  that  the  phenomena  of  religion  re¬ 
quire  us  to  assume  a  profounder  and  more  spiritual 
source  to  account  for  them.  This  must  be  found  in 
primitive  perceptions  and  aspirations  of  the  human  soul. 

A  capital  defect  in  many  of  the  hypotheses  broached 
to  explain  the  origin  of  religion,  is  that  they  make  it 
the  fruit  of  an  intellectual  curiosity.  It  is  regarded  as 
being  the  product  of  an  attempt  to  account  for  the 
world  as  it  presents  itself  before  the  human  intelli¬ 
gence.  It  is  true  that  religion  as  a  practical  experi¬ 
ence  contains  an  ingredient  of  knowledge;  yet  it  is 
a  great  mistake  to  regard  the  intellectual  or  scientific 
tendency  as  the  main  root  of  religious  faith  and  devo¬ 
tion.  Belief  in  God  does  not  lie  at  the  end  of  a  path 
of  inquiry  of  which  the  motive  is  the  desire  to  explore 
the  causes  of  things.  It  arises  in  the  soul  in  a  more 
spontaneous  way,  and  in  a  form  in  which  feeling  plays 
a  more  prominent  part.  “Those  who  lay  exclusive 
stress  on  the  proof  of  the  existence  of  God  from  the 
marks  of  design  in  the  world,  or  from  the  necessity  of 
supposing  a  first  cause  for  all  phenomena,  overlook  the 
fact  that  man  learns  to  pray  before  he  learns  to  rea¬ 
son  ;  that  he  feels  within  him  the  consciousness  of  a 
Supreme  Being  and  the  instinct  of  worship,  before  he 
can  argue  from  effects  to  causes,  or  estimate  the  tracer 
of  wisdom  and  benevolence  scattered  through  the 
creation.”  1 

Religion  is  communion  with  God.  How  is  the  reality 
of  the  object  known  to  us?  Not  as  the  intuitions,  space 
and  time,  cause,  etc.,  are  known  to  us.  These  are  con¬ 
ditioned  on  experience.  They  do  not  assert  the  exist 

1  Mansel,  The  Limits  of  Religious  Thought,  etc.,  p.  115. 


26  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEIST1C  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


ence  of  a  real  object,  but  only  that,  in  case  it  exists,  it 
conforms  to  these  conditions.  Moreover,  they  describe 
the  nature  of  reason  itself,  of  its  procedure  when  brought 
into  contact  with  realities,  —  a  procedure  at  first  uncon¬ 
scious,  and  then  generalized  by  reflection.  The  being 
of  God  is  not  an  axiom  of  this  sort. 

It  is  in  sense-perception  that  external  objects  are 
brought  directly  to  our  knowledge.  Through  sensa¬ 
tions  compared  and  combined  by  reason,  we  perceive 
outward  things  in  their  qualities  and  relations.  There 
are  perceptions  of  the  spirit  as  well  as  of  sense.  The 
being  whom  we  call  God  may,  in  like  manner,  come  in 
contact  with  the  soul.  As  the  soul,  on  the  basis  of  sen¬ 
sations,  posits  the  outer  world  of  sense,  so,  on  the  basis 
of  analogous  inward  experiences,  it  posits  God.  The 
inward  feelings,  yearnings,  aspirations,  which  are  the 
ground  of  the  spiritual  perception,  are  not  continuous, 
as  in  the  perceptions  of  matter :  they  vary  in  liveli¬ 
ness  ;  they  are  contingent,  in  a  remarkable  degree,  on 
character.  Hence  religious  faith  has  not  the  clearness, 
the  uniform  and  abiding  character,  which  belongs  to 
our  recognition  of  outward  things.1 

Religion  is  communion  with  God.  If  we  look  atten¬ 
tively  at  religion  in  its  ripe  form,  —  as,  for  example,  we 
find  it  expressing  itself  in  the  Psalms  of  the  Old  Testa¬ 
ment, —  we  shall  get  some  help  towards  discerning  the 
elements  that  compose  it,  and  the  sources  within  mail 
out  of  which  it  springs. 

Such  a  study  suggests  that  it  is  through  the  feeling 
of  dependence  and  the  feeling  of  obligation  that  the 

i  On  the  subject  of  the  immediate  manifestation  of  God  to  the  soul, 
and  the  analogy  of  sense-perception,  the  reader  may.  be  referred  te 
Lotze,  Grundziige  d.  Religionsphil.,  p.  3,  Mikrokosmos,  vol.  iii.  chap.  iv. 
Ulrici,  Gott  u.  die  Natur,  pp.  605-624,  Gott  u.  der  Mensch,  vol.  i. 
Bowne,  Studies  in  Theism,  chap.  ii.  pp.  75  Beq. 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 


27 


existence  of  a  Supreme  Being  in  whom  we  live,  and  to 
whose  law  we  are  subject,  is  revealed  to  the  soul,  and 
that  intimately  connected  with  the  recognition  of  this 
being  is  a  native  tendency  to  rest  upon  and  hold  con¬ 
verse  with  Him  in  whom  we  live,  and  who  thus  discloses 
himself  to  the  soul.  A  closer  psychological  attention 
tc  these  experiences  in  which  religion  takes  its  origin  is 
requisite.  This  may  serve  to  dispel  the  impression,  if 
it  exist,  that  there  is  a  lack  of  solidity  or  an  unscien¬ 
tific  mysticism  in  these  propositions  pertaining  to  the 
foundations  of  religious  faith. 

The  psychological  facts  at  the  basis  of  theism  are  not 
less  truly  than  forcibly  stated  in  the  following  extracts 
from  Sir  William  Hamilton :  — 

“  The  phenomena  of  the  material  world  are  subject  to  immutable 
laws,  are  produced  and  reproduced  in  the  same  invariable  succes¬ 
sion,  and  manifest  only  the  blind  force  of  a  mechanical  necessity. 

“  The  phenomena  of  man  are,  in  part,  subjected  to  the  laws  of 
the  external  universe.  As  dependent  upon  a  bodily  organization 
as  actuated  by  sensual  propensities  and  animal  wants,  he  belongs 
to  matter,  and  in  this  respect  he  is  the  slave  of  necessity.  But 
what  man  holds  of  matter  does  not  make  up  his  personality.  They 
are  his,  not  he.  Man  is  not  an  organism :  he  is  an  intelligence 
served  by  organs.  For  in  man  there  are  tendencies  —  there  is  a 
law  —  which  continually  urge  him  to  prove  that  he  is  more  power¬ 
ful  than  the  nature  by  which  he  is  surrounded  and  penetrated.  He 
is  conscious  to  himself  of  faculties  not  comprised  in  the  chain  of 
physical  necessity;  his  intelligence  reveals  prescriptive  principles 
of  action,  absolute  and  universal,  in  the  Law  of  Duty,  and  a  liberty 
capable  of  carrying  that  law  into  effect  in  opposition  to  the  solici¬ 
tations,  the  impulsions,  of  his  material  nature.  .  .  . 

“  It  is  only  as  man  is  a  free  intelligence,  a  moral  power,  that  he  is 
created  after  the  image  of  God  ;  and  it  is  only  as  a  spark  of  divinity 
glows  as  the  life  of  our  life  in  us,  that  we  can  rationally  believe  in 
an  intelligent  Creator  and  moral  Governor  of  the  universe.  .  .  . 

“  If  in  man  intelligence  be  a  free  power,  in  so  far  as  its  liberty 
extends  intelligence  must  be  independent  of  necessity  and  matter, 


28  THE  GROUNDS  OF  TIIEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


and  a  power  independent  of  matter  necessarily  implies  the  exist* 
ence  of  an  immaterial  subject;  that  is,  a  spirit.  If,  then,  the 
original  independence  of  intelligence  on  matter  in  the  human  con¬ 
stitution —  in  other  words,  if  the  spirituality  of  mind  in  man  — 
be  supposed  a  datum  of  observation,  in  this  datum  is  also  given 
both  the  condition  and  the  proof  of  a  God.  .  .  . 

“  It  is  evident,  in  the  first  place,  that,  if  there  be  no  moral  world, 
there  can  be  no  moral  Governor  of  such  a  world;  and,  in  the  sec¬ 
ond,  that  we  have  and  can  have  no  ground  on  which  to  believe  in 
the  reality  of  a  moral  world,  except  in  so  far  as  we  ourselves  are 
moral  agents.”  1 

These  statements  commend  themselves  to  reason, 
whatever  doubt  may  attach  to  Hamilton’s  inference, 
made  on  the  ground  of  analogy,  that  “  intelligence  holds 
the  same  relative  supremacy  in  the  universe  which  it 
holds  in  us.”  The  origin  of  the  belief  in  God,  a  Power 
above  us  intelligent  and  moral,  needs  to  be  more  defi¬ 
nitely  explained. 

One  fact  respecting  consciousness  is,  that  we  cannot 
be  conscious  without  being  conscious  of  something.  In 
opposition  to  the  use  of  terms  in  Reid  and  Stewart, 
Hamilton  has  conclusively  vindicated  that  view  which 
includes  in  consciousness  the  object.  “It  is  palpably 
impossible,”  he  truly  says,  “that  we  can  be  conscious  of 
an  act  without  being  conscious  of  the  object  to  which 
that  act  is  relative.”  2  If  I  am  conscious  of  perceiving 
a  tree,  I  am  conscious  of  the  tree.  If  I  am  conscious  of 
feeling  a  pain  in  the  head,  I  am  conscious  of  the  pain. 
If  I  am  conscious  of  any  modification  of  the  mind,  be  it 
a  thought,  feeling  or  desire,  this  mental  object  is  a  part 
of  the  conscious  act. 

Another  fact  respecting  consciousness  is,  that  insepa¬ 
rable  from  it  is  a  knowledge  of  self — the  ego .  Con¬ 

sciousness  is  a  relation  between  the  subject  and  object, 
1  Metaphysics,  pp.  21-23.  a  Ibid.,  p.  14. 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 


29 


its  two  constituent  parts.  Neither  can  be  dropped  out 
without  annihilating  consciousness.  Mind  is  known 
to  itself  only  in  contrast  with  matter ;  or,  as  Hamilton 
expresses  this  established  truth  of  philosophy,  “mind 
and  matter  are  never  known  apart  and  by  themselves, 
but  always  in  mutual  correlation  and  contrast.”  1  This 
antithesis  can  never  be  excluded.  It  is  present  when 
the  object  is  purely  mental.  “The  act  which  affirms 
that  this  particular  phenomenon  is  a  modification  of 
me,  virtually  affirms  that  the  phenomenon  is  not  a  modi¬ 
fication  of  any  thing  different  from  me,  and  conse¬ 
quently  implies  a  common  cognizance  of  not-self  and 
self.”  “  The  ego  and  non-ego  are  known  and  discrimi¬ 
nated  in  the  same  indivisible  act  of  knowledge.  ’ 2 

From  this  constitution  of  the  mind  it  follows,  that  it 
is  impossible  for  man  to  think  of  himself  without  think¬ 
ing  of  the  external  world,  of  something  outside  of  him¬ 
self.  In  other  words,  the  object,  material  existence, 
cannot  be  excluded  from  consciousness.  In  every  modi¬ 
fication  of  mind,  in  every  state  of  thought,  feeling,  or 
will,  it  is  a  co-determining  factor.  Man  may  struggle 
to  escape  from  it,  but  he  struggles  in  vain.  To  destroy 
the  external  object  is  to  destroy  self-consciousness.  The 
human  mind  can  take  no  cognizance  of  itself  without 
in  the  very  act  taking  cognizance  of  matter.  This  rela¬ 
tion  of  self-consciousness  results  from  the  connection  in 
which  we  necessarily  stand  with  the  material  world, 
including  a  physical  organism,  and  with  other  individ¬ 
uals  of  the  same  species.3 

It  is  strictly  true  then,  on  a  rigorous  analysis,  that 
the  non-ego  is  a  co-agent  in  giving  existence  to  every 
mental  state.  Without  its  presence  as  a  co-determim 

1  Metaphysics,  p.  157.  2  Ibid.,  pp.  156,  157. 

8  Muller,  Lehre  von  d.  Siinde,  i.  102. 


80  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

ing  factor,  self-consciousness  would  be  a  bare  faculty 
void  of  contents ;  that  is,  would  have  only  a  potential 
being.  It  is  an  unavoidable  inference,  that  self-con¬ 
sciousness  is  not  an  original,  independent  existence,  but 
is  conditioned,  derived.  The  limitations  which  have 
been  described  are  not  accidental,  but  essential.  Ima¬ 
gine  them  absent,  and  self-consciousness  in  man  would 
be  inconceivable.  It  would  be  as  impossible  as  vision 
without  light.  Hence  the  principle  or  ground  of  self- 
consciousness  in  man  is  not  in  itself.  It  inheres  in 
some  other  being. 

Is  this  source  and  ground  of  self-consciousness  in  the 
object  the  world  without  ?  Is  it  in  Nature  ?  This  can¬ 
not  be.  44  Nature  cannot  give  that  which  she  does  not 
herself  possess.  She  cannot  give  birth  to  that  which  is 
toto  genere  different  from  her.  In  Nature  the  canon 
holds  good,  4  Only  like  can  produce  like.’  ”  Nature 
can  take  no  such  leap.  A  new  beginning  on  a  plane 
above  Nature  it  is  beyond  the  powder  of  Nature  to  make. 
Self-consciousness  can  only  be  explained  by  self-con¬ 
sciousness  as  its  author  and  source.  It  can  have  its 
ground  in  nothing  that  is  itself  void  of  consciousness. 
Only  that  personal  Power  which  is  exalted  above  Na 
ture,  the  creative  principle  to  which  every  new  begin 
ning  is  due,  can  account  for  self-consciousness  in  man 
It  presupposes  an  original,  an  unconditioned  because 
original,  self-consciousness.  This  spark  of  a  divine  tiro 
is  deposited  in  Nature :  it  is  in  it,  but  not  of  it. 

Thus  the  consciousness  of  God  enters  inseparably 
into  the  consciousness  of  self  as  its  hidden  background. 
44  The  descent  into  our  inmost  being  is  at  the  same  time 
an  ascent  to  God.”  All  profound  reflection  in  which 
the  soul  withdraws  from  the  world  to  contemplate  its 
own  being  brings  us  to  God,  in  whom  we  live  and  move. 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  a^D  OF  MAN. 


31 


We  are  conscious  of  God  in  a  more  intimate  sense  than 
we  are  conscious  of  finite  things.  As  they  themselves 
are  derived,  so  is  our  knowledge  of  them. 

In  order  to  know  a  limit  as  a  limit,  it  is  often  said  we 
must  already  be  in  some  sense  beyond  it.  “We  should 
not  be  able,”  says  Julius  Muller,  u  in  the  remotest  de¬ 
gree  to  surmise  that  our  personality  —  that  in  us  where¬ 
by  we  are  exalted,  not  in  degree  only,  but  in  kind,  above 
all  other  existence  —  is  limited,  were  not  the  conscious¬ 
ness  of  the  Absolute  Personality  originally  stamped, 
however  obscure  and  however  effaced  the  outlines  may 
often  be,  upon  our  souls.”  It  is  in  the  knowledge  of 
the  Infinite  One  that  we  know  ourselves  as  finite. 

To  self-determination,  the  second  element  of  person¬ 
ality,  like  self-consciousness,  a  limit  is  also  set.  The 
limit  is  the  moral  law  to  which  the  will  is  bound,  though 
not  necessitated,  to  conform.  We  find  this  law  within 
us,  a  rule  for  the  regulation  of  the  will.  It  is  not  merely 
independent  of  the  will  —  this  is  true  of  the  emotions 
generally  —  it  speaks  with  authority.  It  is  a  voice 
of  command  and  of  prohibition.  This  rule  man  spon¬ 
taneously  identifies  with  the  will  of  Him  who  declares 
himself  in  consciousness  as  the  Author  of  his  being. 
The  unconditional  nature  of  the  demand  which  we  are 
conscious  that  the  moral  law  makes  on  us,  against  all 
rebellious  desires  and  passions,  against  our  own  oppos¬ 
ing  will,  can  only  be  explained  by  identifying  it  thus 
with  a  higher  Will  from  which  it  emanates.  In  self- 
consciousness  God  reveals  his  being :  in  conscience  he 
reveals  his  authority  and  his  will  concerning  man. 
Through  this  recognition  of  the  law  of  conscience  as 
the  will  of  God  in  whom  we  live,  morality  and  religion 
coalesce.1 

1  This  analysis  substantially  coincides  with  the  exposition  of  Julimi 
Muller,  Lehre  v.  d.  Siinde,  ut  supra. 


32  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

« 

There  is  an  eloquent  passage  which  has  often  been 
quoted  from  Jacobi.  How  far  it  is  true,  and  how  far  it 
needs  correction  or  supplement,  will  appear :  — 

“ Nature  conceals  God;  for  through  her  whole  domain  Nature 
reyeals  only  fate,  only  an  indissoluble  chain  of  mere  efficient  causes 
without  beginning  and  without  end,  excluding  with  equal  necessity 
both  providence  and  chance.  An  independent  agency,  a  free* 
original  commencement  within  her  sphere,  and  proceeding  from  ksi 
powers,  is  absolutely  impossible.  .  .  . 

“Man  reveals  God;  for  man  by  his  intelligence  rises  above 
Nature,  and  in  virtue  of  this  intelligence  is  conscious  of  himself  as 
a  power  not  only  independent  of,  but  opposed  to,  Nature,  and  caq>a- 
ble  of  resisting,  conquering,  and  controlling  her.  As  man  has  a 
living  faith  in  this  power,  superior  to  Nature,  which  dwells  in  him, 
so  has  he  a  belief  in  God,  a  feeling,  an  experience,  of  his  existence. 
As  he  does  not  believe  in  this  power,  so  does  he  not  believe  in  God : 
he  sees  nought  in  existence  but  nature,  necessity,  fate.”1 

It  is  true  that  Nature,  except  so  far  as  Nature  is  in¬ 
terpreted  by  the  light  thrown  upon  it  from  our  own 
conscious  personal  agency,  “  conceals  God.”  There  is 
exhibited  no  exercise  of  freedom,  no  morality,  but  only 
efficient  causation.  It  is  true  that  only  through  the 
feeling  of  our  own  personality,  of  an  intelligence  acting 
freely  in  ourselves,  of  a  law  of  righteousness  and  love 
for  the  guidance  of  will,  have  we  any  notion  of  God,  or 
the  slightest  comprehension  of  his  attributes.  But  this 
consciousness  of  self,  as  described  above,  is  not  of  itself 
“a  feeling,  an  experience,”  of  God’s  existence.  It  is 
the  consciousness  of  self  as  dependent  as  well  as  free, 
which  involves  this  feeling  and  experience.  There  is 
no  identification  of  self  with  God:  this,  Jacobi  does  not 
mean,  although  his  language  might  be  construed  to 
imply  it.  Self  is  distinguished  from  God,  as  from  the 
world,  in  the  same  undivided  act  of  consciousness. 


1  Werke,  iii.  pp.  424-426. 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 


33 


Shall  the  conviction  of  the  being  of  God  that  arises 
in  the  soul  in  connection  with  the  feeling  of  depend¬ 
ence  be  regarded  as  the  product  of  inference?  It  is 
more  reasonable  to  say  that  the  recognition  of  God, 
more  or  less  obscure,  is  something  involved  and  even 
presupposed  in  this  feeling.1  How  can  there  be  a  sense 
of  self  as  dependent,  unless  there  be  an  underlying 
sense  of  a  somewhat,  however  vaguely  apprehended, 
on  which  we  depend?  The  one  feeling  is  implicated 
in  the  other. 

The  error  of  many  who  have  adhered  too  closely  to 
Schleiermacher  is  in  representing  the  feeling  of  depend¬ 
ence  as  wholly  void  of  an  intellectual  element.  Ulrici 
and  some  other  German  writers  avoid  this  mistake  by 
using  the  term  “  Gefiihls-perception”  to  desginate  that 
state  of  mind  in  which  feeling  is  the  predominant  ele¬ 
ment,  and  perception  is  still  rudimental  and  obscure. 

Inseparable  from  the  recognition  of  God  is  the  ten¬ 
dency,  which  forms  an  essential  part  of  the  religious 
constitution  of  man,  to  commune  with  him.  To  pray 
to  him  for  help,  to  lean  on  him  for  support,  to  worship 
him,  are  native  and  spontaneous  movements  of  the 
human  spirit.  Man  feels  himself  drawn  to  the  Being 
who  reveals  himself  to  him  in  the  primitive  operations 
of  intelligence  and  conscience.  As  man  was  made  for 
God,  there  is  a  nisus  in  the  direction  of  this  union  to 
his  Creator.  This  tendency,  which  may  take  the  form 
of  an  intense  craving,  may  be  compared  to  the  social 
instinct  with  which  it  is  akin.  As  man  was  made  not 
to  be  alone,  but  to  commune  with  other  beings  like 
himself,  solitude  would  be  an  unnatural  and  almost 

1  Cf.  Ulrici,  Gott  u.  die  Natur,  pp.  606  seq.  “  The  general  conviction 
of  a  divine  existence  we  regard  as  less  an  inference  than  a  perception.” 
—  Bqwne,  Studies  in  Theism,  p.  79. 


34  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


unbearable  state  ;  and  a  longing  for  converse  with  other 
men  is  a  part  of  his  nature.  In  like  manner,  as  man 
was  made  to  commune  with  God,  he  is  drawn  to  God 
by  an  inward  tendency,  the  strength  of  which  is  derived 
from  the  vacuum  left  ii  the  soul  and  the  unsatisfied 
yearning  consequent  on  an  exclusion  of  God  as  the 
supreme  object  of  love  and  trust. 

This  suggests  the  remark,  that  to  the  actual  realiza¬ 
tion  of  religion  there  must  be  an  acknowledgment  of 
God  which  involves  an  active  concurrence  of  the  will. 
The  will  utters  its  “yea”  and  “amen”  to  the  attrac¬ 
tive  power  exerted  by  God  within  the  soul.  It  gives 
consent  to  the  relation  of  dependence  and  of  obligation 
in  which  the  soul  stands  to  God.  The  refusal  thus 
practically  to  acknowledge  God  is  to  enthrone  the  false 
principle  of  self-assertion  or  self-sufficiency  in  the  soul, 
—  false  because  it  is  contrary  to  the  reality  of  things. 
It  is  a  kind  of  self-deification.  Man  may  refuse  “  to 
retain  God  in  his  knowledge.”  The  result  is,  that  the 
feelings  out  of  which  religion  springs,  and  in  which  it 
is  rationally  founded,  are  not  extirpated,  but  are  driven 
to  fasten  on  finite  objects  in  the  world,  or  on  fictitious 
creations  of  the  imagination.  Hence  arise  the  count¬ 
less  forms  of  polytheism  and  idolatry.  Hence  arises, 
too,  the  idolatry  of  which  the  world,  in  the  form  of 
power,  fame,  riches,  pleasure,  or  knowledge,  is  the  ob¬ 
ject.  When  the  proper  food  is  wanting,  the  attempt  is 
mad£  t)  appease  the  appetite  with  drugs  and  stimu¬ 
lants. 

Theology  has  deemed  itself  warranted  by  sound 
philosophy,  as  well  as  by  the  teaching  of  Scripture,  in 
maintaining,  that,  but  for  the  intrusion  of  moral  evil 
or  the  practical  substitution  of  a  finite  object,  real  or 
imaginary,  for  God  as  the  supreme  good,  the  knowledge 


THE  PERSONALITY  OF  GOD  AND  OF  MAN. 


35 


of  him  would  shine  brightly  in  the  soul,  would  begin 
with  the  dawn  of  intelligence,  and  would  keep  pace 
with  its  advancing  development.  The  more  one  turns 
the  eye  within,  and  fastens  his  attention  on  the  charac¬ 
teristic  elements  of  his  own  spirit,  the  more  clear  and 
firm  is  found  to  be  his  belief  in  God.  And  the  more 
completely  the  will  follows  the  law  that  is  written  on 
the  heart,  the  more  vivid  is  the  conviction  of  the  reality 
of  the  Lawgiver,  whose  authority  is  expressed  in  it. 
The  experience  of  religion  carries  with  it  a  constantly 
growing  sense  of  the  reality  of  its  object. 

But  we  have  to  look  at  men  as  they  are.  As  a  mat¬ 
ter  of  fact,  “  the  consciousness  of  God  ”  is  obscure, 
latent  rather  than  explicit,  germinant  rather  than  de¬ 
veloped.  It  waits  to  be  evoked  and  illuminated  by  the 
manifestation  of  God  in  nature  and  providence,  and  by 
instruction. 

Writers  on  psychology  have  frequently  neglected  to 
give  an  account  of  presentiment,  a  state  of  consciousness 
in  which  feeling  is  predominant,  and  knowledge  is  indis¬ 
tinct.  There  are  vague  anticipations  of  truth  not  yet 
clearly  discerned.  It  is  possible  to  seek  for  something, 
one  knows  not  precisely  what.  It  is  not  found,  else  it 
would  not  be  sought.  Yet  it  is  not  utterly  beyond  our 
ken,  else  how  could  we  seek  for  it  ?  Explorers  and 
inventors  may  feel  themselves  on  the  threshold  of  great 
discoveries  just  before  they  are  made.  Poets,  at  least, 
have  recognized  the  deep  import  of  occult,  vague  feel¬ 
ings  which  almost  baffle  analysis.  The  German  psy¬ 
chologists  who  have  most  satisfactorily  handled  the 
subject  before  us,  as  Lotze,  Ulrici,  Julius  Muller, 
Nitzsch,  find  in  their  language  an  expressive  term  to 
designate  our  primitive  sense  or  apprehension  of  God. 
It  is  almung,  of  which  our  word  “  presage  ”  is  a  partial 


36  THE  GROUNDS  OF  TIIEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 


equivalent.  The  apostle  Paul  refers  to  the  providen* 
Mai  control  of  nations  as  intended  to  incite  men  “to 
seek  the  Lord,  if  haply  they  might  feel  after  him,  and 
find  him.”  1  He  is  not  known,  but  sought  for.  Rather 
do  men  feel  after  him,  as  a  blind  man  moves  about  in 
quest  of  something,  or  as  we  grope  in  the  dark.  The 
cause  of  their  comparative  failure  the  same  apc*stle 
elsewhere  points  out.2  This  philosophy  of  religion  is 
conformed  to  the  observed  facts.  There  is  that  in  man 
which  makes  him  restless  without  God,  discontented 
with  every  substitute  for  him.  The  subjective  basis 
for  religion,  inherent  in  the  very  constitution  of  the 
soul,  is  the  spur  to  the  search  for  God,  the  condition 
of  apprehending  him  when  revealed  (whether  in  nature, 
or  in  providence,  or  in  Christianity),  and  the  ultimate 
ground  of  certitude  as  to  the  things  of  faith. 

The  validity  of  the  arguments  for  the  being  of  God 
has  been  questioned  in  modern  times.  In  particular, 
objections  have  been  made  from  the  side  of  philosophy 
and  natural  science  to  the  great  argument  of  design. 
These  objections  we  hold  to  be  without  good  founda¬ 
tion.  At  the  same  time,  neither  the  design  argument 
nor  any  other  is  demonstrative.  The  actual  effect  of 
it  depends  on  the  activity  in  man  of  that  religious 
nature,  and  the  presence  of  those  immediate  impr©s« 
sions  of  God,  which  it  has  been  the  object  of  this 
chapter  partially  to  unfold. 


1  Ac  Is  xvii.  27. 


3  Rom.  i.  21. 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 

It  will  be  clear,  from  the  foregoing  chapter,  that  the 
belief  in  God  is  not  ultimately  founded  on  processes  of 
argument.  His  presence  is  more  immediately  disclosed. 
There  is  a  native  and  universal  belief,  emerging  spon¬ 
taneously  in  connection  with  the  feeling  of  dependence 
and  the  phenomena  of  conscience,  however  obscure, 
inconstant,  and  perverted  that  faith  may  be.  The  argu¬ 
ments  for  the  being  of  God  do  not  originate  this  faith : 
they  justify  at  the  same  time  that  they  elucidate  and 
define  it.  They  are  so  many  different  points  of  view 
from  which  we  contemplate  the  object  of  faith.  Each 
one  of  them  tends  to  show,  not  simply  that  God  is,  but 
what  he  is.  They  complete  the  conception  by  pointing 
out  particular  predicates  brought  to  light  in  the  mani¬ 
festation  which  God  has  made  of  himself. 

We  begin  with  the  intuition  of  the  Unconditioned, 
the  Absolute.  By  “the  Absolute”  is  signified,  in  phi¬ 
losophy,  that  which  is  complete  in  itself,  that  which 
stands  in  no  necessary  relation  to  other  beings.  It 
denotes  being  which  is  independent  as  to  its  existence 
and  action.  A  cognate  idea  is  that  of  the  Infinite, 
which  designates  being  without  limit.  The  Uncondi¬ 
tioned  is  more  generic.  It  means  freedom  from  all 
restriction.  It  is  often  used  as  synonymous  with  “  the 
Absolute.” 

37 


i 


38  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


We  have  an  immediate  conviction  of  the  reality  of 
the  Absolute,  that  is,  of  being  which  is  dependent  upon 
no  other  as  the  condition  of  its  existence  and  activity. 
When  we  look  abroad  upon  the  world,  we  find  a  mul¬ 
titude  of  objects,  each  bounded  by  others,  each  con¬ 
ditioned  by  beings  outside  of  itself,  none  of  them 
complete  or  independent.  There  is  everywhere  de¬ 
marcation,  mutual  dependence,  and  reciprocal  action. 
Turning  the  eye  within,  we  find  that  our  own  minds 
and  our  own  mental  processes  are  in  the  same  way 
restricted,  conditioned.  The  mind  has  a  definite  con¬ 
stitution  :  the  act  of  knowledge  requires  an  object 
as  its  necessary  condition.  The  universe  is  a  vast 
complexity  of  beings,  neither  of  which  is  independent, 
self-originated,  self-sustained. 

Inseparably  connected  with  this  perception  of  the  rel¬ 
ative,  the  limited,  the  dependent,  is  the  idea  of  the 
Unconditioned,  the  Absolute.  It  is  the  correlate  of 
the  finite  and  conditioned.  Its  reality  is  known  as 
being  implied  in  the  reality  of  the  world  of  finite, 
interacting,  dependent  existences.  The  Unconditioned 
is  not  a  mere  negative.  It  is  negative  in  its  verbal 
form,  because  it  is  antithetical  to  the  conditioned,  and 
is  known  through  it.  But  the  idea  is  positive,  though 
it  be  incomplete ;  that  is  to  say,  although  we  fall  short 
of  a  complete  grasp  of  the  object.  The  Unconditioned, 
almost  all  philosophers  except  Positivists  of  an  extreme 
type,  admit.  Metaphysicians  of  the  school  of  Hamilton 
and  Mvasel  hold,  that,  as  a  reality,  it  is  an  object  of 
immedxcite  and  necessary  belief,  although  they  refuse  to 
consider  it  an  object  of  conceptive  thought.  But  some 
sort  of  knowledge  of  it  there  must  be  in  order  to  such 
a  belief.  The  Unconditioned  is  not  merely  subjective, 
it  is  not  a  mere  idea,  as  Kant,  in  the  theoretical  part  of 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


89 


his  philosophy  alleges.  He  makes  this  idea  necessary 
to  the  order,  connection,  and  unity  of  our  knowledge. 
We  can  ask  for  no  surer  criterion  of  real  existence 
than  this.1  Unconditioned  being  is  the  silent  presup¬ 
position  of  all  our  knowing.  Be  it  observed  that  the 
idea  of  the  Absolute  is  not  that  of  “the  sum  of  all 
reality,”  —  a  quantitative  notion.  It  is  not  the  idea  of 
the  Unrelated,  but  of  that  which  is  not  necessarily 
related.  It  does  not  exclude  other  beings,  but  other 
beings  only  when  conceived  of  as  a  necessary  com¬ 
plement  of  itself,  or  as  the  product  of  its  necessary 
activity,  or  as  existing  independently  alongside  of  itself. 
The  Absolute  which  is  given  in  the  intuition  is  one. 
It  is  infinite,  not  as  comprehending  in  itself  of  necessity 
all  beings,  but  as  incapable  of  any  conceivable  augmen¬ 
tation  of  its  powers.  It  is  free  from  all  restrictions  not 
self-imposed.  Any  thing  more  respecting  the  Absolute, 
we  cannot  affirm.  It  might  be,  as  far  as  we  have  gone 
now,  the  universal  substance  of  Spinoza,  or  “the  Un¬ 
knowable  ”  of  Spencer.  For  the  refutation  of  such 
hypotheses,  we  depend  on  the  cosmological  and  other 
arguments.2 

The  arguments  for  the  being  of  God  are  usually 
classed  as  the  ontological,  the  cosmological,  the  physico- 
theological  or  the  argument  of  design,  the  moral,  and 
the  historical. 

I.  The  ontological.  This  makes  the  existence  of  God 
involved  in  the  idea  of  him.  This  argument  must  not 
be  confounded  with  the  intuition  of  the  Absolute  which 
is  evoked  in  conjunction  with  our  perceptions  of  rela- 

1  Cf.  Trendelenburg,  Logische  Untersuchungen,  ii.  426. 

2  For  instructive  observations  respecting  tbe  Absolute  and  the  kin- 
dred  ideas,  see  Calderwood’s  Philosophy  of  the  Infinite  (2d  ed.);  Porter, 
The  Human  Intellect,  pp.  645  seq. ;  Flint,  Theism,  p.  264;  McCosh, 
The  In  tuitions  of  the  Mind,  chap.  iii. 


40  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 


live  and  dependent  existence.  The  ontological  proof 
begins  and  ends  with  the  analysis  of  the  idea.  It  claims 
that  the  existence  of  God  is  necessarily  involved  in  a 
necessary  notion.  As  presented  by  Anselm,  it  affirms 
that  the  most  perfect  conceivable  being  must  be  actual : 
otherwise  a  property  —  that  of  actuality,  or  objective 
being — is  wanting.  It  appears  to  be  a  valid  answer  to 
this  reasoning,  that  existence  in  re  is  not  a  constituent 
of  a  concept.  How  can  we  infer  the  existence  of  a  thing 
from  the  definition  of  a  word  ?  Given  the  most  perfect 
being,  its  mode  of  existence  is  no  doubt  necessary.  But 
from  the  mere  idea,  except  on  the  basis  of  philosophical 
realism,  the  actuality  of  a  corresponding  entity  cannot 
be  concluded  with  demonstrative  certainty.  The  same 
objection  is  applicable  to  the  ontological  argument  of 
Descartes,  who  brings  forward  the  analogy  of  a  triangle, 
the  idea  of  which  involves  the  equality  of  its  three 
angles  to  two  right  angles.  So,  it  is  said,  the  idea  of 
God  implies  that  he  exists  necessarily.  Certainly,  if 
there  be  a  God ;  but  the  hypothesis  must  first  be  estab¬ 
lished.  The  inference  of  Descartes,  from  the  presence 
of  the  idea  of  the  infinite  in  the  human  mind,  that  an 
infinite  Author  must  have  originated  it,  is  rather  an 
a  posteriori  than  an  a  priori  argument.  As  an  argu 
ment  from  effect  to  cause,  it  is  not  without  weight. 

The  argument  from  the  idea  of  “the  most  perfect 
being,”  though  failing  in  strict  logic,  is  not  without  an 
evidential  value.  The  soul  does  not  willingly  consent 
to  regard  so  inspiring  a  conception  as  a  mere  thought. 
To  consider  it  as  unreal,  with  no  counterpart  in  the 
realm  of  actual  existence,  is  felt  as  a  bereavement  and 
a  pain.  The  importance  which  eminent  thinkers  have 
attached  to  this  argument  has  not  been  wholly  void  of 
"mi  dation.1  The  idea  of  a  being  infinite  and  perfect 
1  See  McCosh,  The  Intuitions  of  the  Mind,  p.  191,  n. 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


41 


attaches  itself,  by  a  spontaneous  movement  of  the  mind, 
to  that  image  of  God  which  the  other  arguments  call 
forth. 

Of  more  cogency  is  what  has  been  called  the  logical 
form  of  the  a  priori  proof.  It  is  found  in  Anselm  and 
Aquinas.  It  is  impossible  to  deny  that  there  is  Truth  : 
the  denial  would  be  self-contradictory.  But  those  ideas 
and  truths  which  are  the  ground-work  of  all  our  know¬ 
ing  —  the  laws  of  our  intellectual  and  moral  constitu¬ 
tion  —  have  their  source  without  us  and  beyond  us. 
They  inhere  in  God.  A  like  indirect  proof  has  been 
thus  presented  by  Trendelenburg.  The  human  mind 
goes  out  of  itself  to  know  the  world,  and  also,  by  exer¬ 
tions  of  the  will,  to  mould  and  subdue  it.  Yet  the  world 
is  independent  of  the  mind  that  seeks  thus  to  compre¬ 
hend  it,  and  shape  it  to  its  purposes.  This  freedom  of 
the  mind  implies  that  the  world  is  intelligible,  that  there 
is  thought  in  things.  It  implies  that  there  is  a  common 
bond  —  namely,  God,  the  Truth  —  between  thoughts 
and  things,  mind  and  the  world.  Thought  and  thing, 
subject  and  object,  each  matched  to  the  other,  presup¬ 
pose  an  intelligible  ground  of  both.  This  presupposi¬ 
tion  is  latent  in  all  attempts  to  explore  and  comprehend, 
to  bring  within  the  domain  of  knowledge,  and. to  shape 
to  rational  ends,  the  world  without.1 

II.  The  cosmological  proof  is  more  clear.  It  stands 
on  a  solid  foundation.  Finite  things  have  not  their 
origin  in  themselves.  We  trace  effects  back  to  their 
causes ;  but  these  causes  are  found  to  be,  also,  effects. 
The  path  is  endless.  There  is  no  goal.  There  is  no 
rest  or  satisfaction,  save  in  the  assumption  j£  being 

1  Trendelenburg,  ibid.,  p.  430.  For  an  interesting  review  ot  the 
a  priori  proofs,  see  Flint,  Theism,  Lect.  ix.  Dr  Flint  attaches  more 
ralidity  to  the  Anselmic  argument  than  I  am  able  to  discern  in  it. 


42  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


that  is  causative  without  being  caused,  or  being  which 
has  the  ground  of  existence  in  itself.  If  there  is  not 
self-existent  being,  or  being  which  is  causa  sui ,  then 
cause  is  a  phantom,  forever  chased,  but  never  caught. 
It  has  no  reality.  A  phenomenon  —  call  it  a — calls  for 
explanation :  it  demands  a  cause.  If  we  are  told  that 
its  cause  is  b ,  but  told  at  the  same  time  that  in  b  there 
is  no  fount  of  causal  energy,  so  that  we  have  precisely 
the  same  demand  to  satisfy  respecting  b  as  <2,  then  no 
answer  has  been  given  to  our  first  question :  we  are  put 
off  with  an  evasion.  That  question  takes  for  granted 
the  reality  of  aboriginal  causal  energy.  It  proceeds 
from  a  demand  of  intelligence  which  is  illegitimate  and 
irrational,  unless  there  be  a  cause  in  the  absolute  sense, 

—  a  cause  uncaused. 

Yet,  in  postulating  a  causa  sui ,  we  surpass  the  limits 
ji  experience ;  for  all  our  experience  is  of  causes  dis¬ 
tinct  from  their  effects.  The  cosmological  proof  is  nega¬ 
tive  or  indirect.  The  supposition  of  a  First  Cause  is 
impressed  on  us  by  the  absurdity  of  an  endless  regress, 

—  an  infinite  series  in  the  succession  of  whose  limits 
no  causal  energy,  or  cause  answering  to  the  demand  of 
reason,  is  contained. 

The  intuition  of  cause  determines  the  relation  of  the 
Absolute  to  the  world.  Are  we  not  led  farther  by  the 
idea  of  causa  sui ,  naturally  and  logically  to  the  ascrip¬ 
tion  of  personality  to  the  First  Cause?  Does  not  this 
idea  require  that  will,  the  fountain-head  of  aboriginal 
activity,  should  be  considered  the  prius  of  all  exist¬ 
ence  ?  This  has  been  the  conclusion  of  the  most  pro¬ 
found  thinkers.1 

III.  The  personality  of  God  is  proved  by  the  argu- 

1  That  causa  sui  also  implies  personality  is  shown  by  Julius  Muller, 
Let  re  von  der  Siinde,  b.  iii.  p.  1,  chap.  iv. 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


4$ 


♦ 


rnent  of  design,  —  the  physico-theological  argument 
The  First  Cause  is  known  to  be  intelligent  and  free  by 
the  manifest  traces  of  intelligent  purpose  in  the  consti 
tution  of  the  world. 

When  we  attend  to  the  various  objects  of  which  the 
knowing  faculty  takes  cognizance,  including  the  human 
mind,  we  discover  something  more  than  the  properties 
which  distinguish  them  one  from  another  and  the  causes 
which  bring  them  into  being.  In  this  very  process  of 
investigation  we  are  struck  with  the  fact  that  there  is 
a  coincidence  and  co-operation  of  physical  or  efficient 
causes  for  the  production  of  definite  effects.  These 
causes  are  perceived  to  be  so  constituted  and  disposed 
as  to  concur  in  the  production  of  the  effect,  and  to 
concur  in  such  a  way  that  the  particular  result  follows 
of  necessity.  This  conjunction  of  disparate  agencies,  of 
which  a  definite  product  is  the  necessary  outcome,  is 
the  finality  which  is  observed  in  Nature.  But  our 
observation  extends  farther :  we  involuntarily  assume 
that  this  coincidence  of  causes  is  in  order  that  the  pecul¬ 
iar  and  specific  result  may  follow.  This  assumption  of 
design  is  the  result  of  no  effort  —  it  is  not  an  arbitrary 
act  —  on  our  part.  It  is  spontaneous.  The  conviction 
of  design  is  brought  home  to  us  by  the  objects  them¬ 
selves.  We  see  a  thought  realized,  and  thus  recognize 
in  it  a  forethought. 

It  admits  of  no  question  that  the  observation  of  order 
and  adaptation  in  Nature,  inspiring  the  conviction  of  a 
designing  mind  concerned  in  its  origination,  is  natural 
to  mankind.  It  has  impressed  the  philosopher  and  the 
peasant  alike.  Socrates  enforced  the  argument  by  the 
illustration  of  a  statue,  as  Paley,  two  thousand  years 
later,  by  the  illustration  of  a  watch. 

The  distinction  between  order  and  design,  in  the  pop 


44  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

ular  sense  of  the  term,  — meaning  special  adaptations, — 
is  a  valid  and  important  one.  Especially  is  this  dis¬ 
crimination  important  since  the  advent  of  the  modern 
theories  of  evolution.  By  order  we  mean  the  reign  of 
law  and  the  harmony  of  the  world  resulting  from  it. 
Both  order  and  the  relation  of  means  to  special  intel¬ 
ligible  ends  imply  design.  They  both  imply  intelligent 
purpose.  Both  order  and  special  adaptation  may  and 
do  co-exist,  but  they  are  distinguishable  from  one 
another.  For  example,  the  typical  unity  of  animals  of 
the  vertebrate  class,  or  their  conformity  in  structure  to 
a  typical  idea,  is  an  example  of  order.  The  fitness  of 
the  foot  for  walking,  the  wing  for  flying,  the  fin  for 
swimming,  is  an  instance  of  special  adaptation. 

What  are  the  laws  of  Nature  ?  They  are  the  rules 
conformably  to  which  the  forces  of  Nature  act.  We 
cannot  think  of  them  otherwise  than  as  prescribed,  as 
ordained  to  the  end  that  these  forces  may  work  out 
their  effects.  In  other  words,  the  order  of  Nature  is  an 
arrangement  of  intelligence.  This  accounts  for  the  joy 
that  springs  up  in  the  mind  on  the  discovery  of  some 
great  law  which  gives  simplicity  to  the  seemingly  com¬ 
plex  operations  of  Nature.  The  mind  recognizes  some¬ 
thing  akin  to  itself.  It  recognizes  a  thought  of  God. 
The  norms  according  to  which  the  knowing  faculty  dis¬ 
criminates,  connects,  and  classifies  the  objects  in  Nature, 
imply  that  Nature  herself  has  been  pre-arranged  accord¬ 
ing  to  the  same  norms,  or  is  the  product  of  mind.  In 
conformity  to  the  categories  —  time,  space,  quantity, 
quality,  etc.  —  according  to  which  the  mind  distin¬ 
guishes  natural  objects,  and  thus  comprehends  Nature, 
Nature  is  already  framed.  That  is  to  say,  there  is  mind 
expressed  in  Nature.  It  is  from  consciousness  in  our¬ 
selves  that  we  derive  the  ideas  which  we  find  embodied 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


45 


in  the  framework  of  Nature,  aud  by  which  it  is  under¬ 
stood  and  described.  Unity  is  known  from  the  unity 
of  consciousness  in  the  variety  of  its  modifications; 
substance,  from  the  intuition  of  self;  order,  from  the 
harmony  in  the  inner  world  of  thought;  cause,  from 
the  exertion  of  the  will. 

Science  is  the  discernment  of  the  expressions  of 
mind  which  are  incorporated  in  Nature.  A  dog  sees 
on  a  printed  page  only  meaningless  marks  on  a  white 
ground.  To  us  they  contain  and  convey  thoughts,  and 
bring  us  into  communion  with  the  mind  of  the  author. 
So  it  is  with  Nature.  Take  a  book  of  astronomy.  If 
the  stellar  world  were  not  an  intellectual  system,  such 
a  work  would  be  impossible.  The  sky  itself  is  the 
book  which  the  astronomer  reads,  and  the  written 
treatise  is  merely  the  transcript  of  the  thoughts  which 
he  finds  there.  “  How  powerful  and  wise  must  He  be,” 
says  Fenelon,  u  who  makes  worlds  as  innumerable  as 
the  grains  of  sand  that  cover  the  seashore,  and  who 
leads  all  these  wandering  worlds  without  difficulty 
during  so  many  ages,  as  a  shepherd  leads  his  flock  !  ” 
Science  is  the  reflex  of  mind  in  Nature.1  Nature  is 
a  complex  whole,  made  up  of  interacting  powers  and 
activities  which  constitute  together  one  complete  system. 
Order  reigns  in  Nature,  and  universal  harmony.  Hence 

1  This  truth  is  presented  with  much  force  and  eloquence  by  one  of 
the  most  eminent  mathematicians  of  the  age,  —  the  late  Professor  B. 
Peirce,  in  his  Ideality  in  the  Physical  Sciences  (1883).  He  speaks 
of  Nature  as  “  imbued  with  intelligible  thought  ”  (p.  19),  of  “  the  amaz¬ 
ing  intellectuality  inwrought  into  the  unconscious  material  world  ” 
(p.  20),  in  which  there  is  “  no  dark  corner  of  hopeless  obscurity  ”  (p.  21), 
of  the  “  dominion  of  intellectual  order  everywhere  found  ”  (p.  25), 
“of  the  vast  intellectual  conceptions  in  Nature ”  (p.  26).  To  ignore 
God  as  the  author  of  Nature  as  well  as  of  mind  is  as  absurd  as  to 
make  “  the  antliem  the  offspring  of  unconscious  sound  ”  (p.  32).  “  If 
the  common  origin  of  mfnd  and  matter  is  conceded  to  reside  in  the 
decree  of  a  Creator,  the  identity  ceases  to  be  a  mystery  ”  (p.  31). 


46  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


all  these  separate  powers  must  he  so  fashioned  and 
guided  that  they  shall  conspire  to  sustain  and  promote, 
and  not  to  convulse  and  subvert,  the  complex  whole.  It 
follows  that  the  existence  and  preservation  of  the  sys¬ 
tem  are  an  end  for  the  realizing  of  which  the  particular 
forces  and  their  special  activities  are  the  means.  More¬ 
over,  if  all  the  forces  of  Nature  are  so  interlinked  in  a 
system,  that  any  single  occurrence  involves  the  more 
immediate  or  the  more  remote  participation  of  all,  we 
must  infer  that  all  are  made  and  controlled  with  refer* 
ence  to  it ;  that  is,  the  forces  of  Nature  exhibit  design. 

There  is  no  province  of  Nature  where  order,  and 
thus  design,  are  not  discoverable.  But  the  most  strik¬ 
ing  evidences  of  controlling  intelligence  are  found  in 
the  organic  kingdom.  Here  order  and  special  adapta¬ 
tion  meet  together.  Naturalists,  whatever  may  be 
their  theory  as  to  final  causes,  cannot  describe  plants 
and  animals  without  constantly  using  language  which 
implies  an  intention  as  revealed  in  their  structure. 
The  “  provisions  ”  of  Nature,  the  “  purpose  of  an 
oigan,”  the  possession  of  a  part  “in  order  that  ”  some¬ 
thing  may  be  done  or  averted,  —  such  phraseology  is  not 
only  common,  it  is  almost  unavoidable.  No  writer  uses 
it  more  abundantly  than  Mr.  Darwin.  It  corresponds 
to  the  impression  which  is  naturally  and  irresistibly 
made  upon  the  mind. 

It  is  when  we  consider  the  human  body  in  its  rela¬ 
tion  to  the  mind,  that  the  most  vivid  perception  of 
design  is  experienced.  To  one  who  does  not  hold  that 
the  mind  is  itself  the  product  of  organization,  and 
every  purpose  which  the  mind  forms  a  phenomenon  of 
matter,  —  a  phenomenon  as  necessary  in  its  origin  as 
the  motion  of  the  lungs,  —  that  is,  to  every  one  who  is 
conscious  of  being  able  to  begin  action,  the  adaptation 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


47 


of  his  bodily  organs  to  the  service  of  his  intelligence  is 
obvious  and  striking.  The  hand  bears  maiks  of  being 
designed,  more  clearly  than  the  tools  which  the  hand 
makes.  The  eye  displays  contrivance,  more  impres¬ 
sively  than  all  the  optical  instruments  which  man  can 
contrive.  I  distinguish  myself  from  the  eye,  and  from 
my  body  of  which  the  eye  is  a  part ;  and  I  know  that 
the  eye  was  made  for  me  to  see  with.  When  we  con¬ 
sider  the  adaptation  of  the  sexes  to  one  another,  the 
physical  and  moral  arrangements  of  Nature  which 
result  in  the  family,  in  the  production  and  rearing  of 
offspring ;  and  when  we  contemplate  the  relation  of 
the  family  to  the  state,  and  the  relation  of  the  family 
and  the  state  to  the  kingdom  of  God,  where  the  ideas 
and  affections  developed  in  the  family  and  in  the  state . 
find  a  broader  scope  and  higher  objects  to  rest  upon,  - — 
the  evidences  of  a  preconceived  plan  are  overwhelming. 

It  is  objected  that  in  Nature  design  is  immanent,  the 
efficient  cause  reaches  its  ends  without  going  out  of 
itself;  whereas  in  all  the  works  of  man  the  efficient 
cause  is  distinct  and  separate  from  the  object  in  which 
the  end  is  realized.  In  Nature  the  efficient  cause 
operates  from  within,  and  appears  to  work  out  the 
end  without  conscious  purpose.  The  forces  of  Nature 
appear  to  achieve  the  order  and  variety  and  beauty 
which  we  behold,  of  themselves,  through  no  external 
compulsion,  and  at  the  same  time  without  conscious¬ 
ness.  In  an  organism  every  part  is  both  means  and 
end:  the  structure  grows  up,  repairs  itself,  and  per¬ 
petuates  itself  by  reproduction ;  but  the  active  force 
by  which  these  ends  are  fulfilled  is  not  in  the  least 
aware  of  what  it  is  doing.  Thus,  it  is  contended,  the 
analogy  fails  between  the  artificial  products  of  human 
ingenuity  and  the  works  of  Nature.  These  works 


48  T1IE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


arise,  we  are  told,  through  forces  which  operate  in  the 
manner  of  instinct.  It  is  a  blind  intelligence,  it  is  said, 
performing  works  resembling  those  which  man  does, 
often  less  perfectly,  with  conscious  design.  But  for 
the  very  reason  that  instinct  is  blind,  incapable  of  fore¬ 
seeing  the  end  which  it  is  to  attain,  and  of  choosing  the 
appropriate  means,  we  are  obliged  to  connect  it  with  a 
conscious  wisdom  of  which  it  is  the  instrument.  A 
“  blind  intelligence  ”  is  a  contradiction  in  terms.  W  hen 
we  see  a  purpose  carried  out,  we  are  impelled  to  trace 
the  operation  to  an  intelligent  Author,  whether  the  end 
is  attained  by  an  agency  acting  from  within  or  from 
without.  The  accurate  mathematics  of  the  planetary 
bodies,  marking  out  for  themselves  their  orbits,  the 
unerring  path  of  the  birds,  the  geometry  of  the  bee,  the 
seed-corn  sending  upward  the  blossoming  and  fruit¬ 
bearing  stalk,  excite  a  wonder  the  secret  of  which  is 
the  insufficiency  of  the  operative  cause  to  effect  these 
marvels  of  intelligence  and  foresight. 

The  popular  objection  to  the  argument  of  design 
imputes  to  it  the  fallacy  of  confounding  use  with  fore - 
thought  or  intention .  Is  not  the  eye  for  seeing  ?  Yes,  it 
is  answered,  that  is  its  use  or  function ;  but  this  is  not 
to  say  that  it  was  planned  for  this  use  or  function,  for, 
when  you  affirm  design,  you  go  back  to  a  mental  act. 
The  rejoinder  is,  that  we  are  driven  back  to  such  a 
mental  act,  and  thus  to  a  designing  intelligence.  The 
relation  of  the  constitution  of  the  organ  to  the  use 
irresistibly  suggests  the  inference.  The  inference  is 
no  arbitrary  fancy.  Design  is  brought  home  to  us,  just 
as  the  relation  of  the  structure  of  a  telescope  to  its 
use  would  compel  us  of  itself  to  attribute  it  to  a  con¬ 
triving  intelligence. 

Kant  has  two  criticisms  on  the  argument  of  design 


fHE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


49 


Tlie  first  is,  that  it  can  go  no  farther  than  to  prove  an 
architect  or  framer  of  the  world,  not  a  creator  of  mat¬ 
ter.  But  the  special  function  of  the  argument  is  to 
prove  that  the  First  Cause  is  intelligent.  The  conclu¬ 
sion  that  the  author  of  the  wonderful  order  which  is 
wrought  in  and  through  matter  is  also  the  author  of 
matter  itself,  appears,  however,  probable.  For  how  can 
the  properties  of  matter  through  which  it  is  adapted 
to  the  use  of  being  moulded  by  intelligence,  be  separat¬ 
ed  from  matter  itself?  What  is  matter  divorced  from 
its  properties  ?  We  cannot  understand  creation,  because 
we  cannot  create.  The  nearest  approach  to  creative 
activity  is  in  the  production  of  good  and  evil  by  our 
own  voluntary  action.  How  God  creates  is  a  mystery 
which  cannot  be  fathomed,  at  least  until  we  know 
better  what  matter  is.  There  are  philosophers  of  high 
repute  who  favor  the  Berkeleian  hypothesis,  which  dis¬ 
penses  with  a  substratum  of  matter,  and  ascribes  the 
percepts  of  sense  to  the  will  of  the  Almighty,  exerted 
according  to  a  uniform  rule.  Whatever  matter  may 
be  in  its  essence,  we  know  that  there  is  an  ultimate, 
unconditioned  Cause.  We  know  that  this  Cause  is 
intelligent  and  free.  To  suppose  that  by  the  side  of 
the  eternal  Spirit  there  is  another  eternal  and  self- 
existent  being,  the  raw  matter  of  the  world,  “  without 
form,  and  void,”  involves  the  absurdity  of  two  Abso¬ 
lutes  limiting  one  another.  Moreover,  scientific  study 
favors  the  view  that  matter  itself  is  an  effect.  If  we 
accept  the  hypothesis  of  molecules  as  the  ultimate 
forms  of  matter,  Sir  John  Herschel  finds  in  each  of 
these,  as  related  to  the  others  “the  essential  quality 
of  a  manufactured  article.”  Our  intuition  of  the  Infi¬ 
nite  and  Absolute  is  not  contradicted,  but  rather  cor¬ 
roborated,  by  the  evidence  which  science  affords  of  a 
supramundane  though  immanent  Deity. 


50  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


The  second  difficulty  raised  by  Kant  is,  that  a  strictly 
infinite  being  cannot  be  inferred  from  a  finite  creation, 
however  extensive  or  wondrous.  All  that  can  be  in¬ 
ferred  with  certainty  is  an  inconceivably  vast  power 
and  wisdom.  The  validity  of  this  objection  may  bo 
conceded.  The  infinitude  of  the  attributes  of  God  is 
involved  in  the  intuition  of  an  unconditioned  being,  — 
the  being  glimpses  of  whose  attributes  are  disclosed  to 
us  in  the  order  of  the  finite  world. 

These  objections  of  Kant  are  in  the  Critique  of  Pure 
Reason.  Elsewhere  he  brings  forward  an  additional 
consideration.  Admitting  that  the  idea  of  design  is 
essential  to  our  comprehension  of  the  world,  he  raises 
the  point  that  it  may  be  subjective  only,  regulative  of 
our  perceptions,  but  not  objsctive  or  “constitutive.’ 
Not  regarding  the  idea  of  design  as  a  priori ,  like  the 
idea  of  causation,  he  inquires  whether  it  may  not  be  a 
mere  supposition,  a  working  hypothesis,  which  a  deeper 
penetration  of  Nature  might  dispense  with.  The  an¬ 
swer  to  this  doubt  is,  that  the  thought  of  design  is  not 
artificially  originated  by  ourselves :  it  is  a  conviction 
which  the  objects  of  Nature  themselves  “  imperiously  ” 
suggest  and  bring  home  to  us.  As  Janet  has  pointed 
out,  there  are  two  classes  of  hypotheses.  Of  one  class 
it  is  true  that  they  are  regarded  as  corresponding  with 
the  true  nature  of  things ;  of  the  other,  that  they  are 
only  a  convenient  means  for  the  mind  to  conceive  them. 
The  question  is,  whether  the  hypothesis  is  warranted  by 
the  facts,  and  is  perceived  veritably  to  represent  Nature. 
In  the  proportion  in  which  it  does  this,  its  probability 
grows  until  it  becomes  a  truth  of  science.  Of  thi3 
character  is  the  hypothesis  of  design. 

We  infer  the  existence  of  an  intelligent  Deity,  as  we 
infer  the  existence  of  .ntelligence  in  our  fellow-men, 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


61 


and  on.  grounds  equally  cogent.  My  senses  take  no 
cognizance  of  ilie  minds  of  other  men.  I  perceive 
certain  motions  of  their  bodies.  I  hear  certain  sounds 
emanating  from  their  lips.  What  right  have  I,  from 
these  purely  physical  phenomena,  to  infer  the  presence 
of  an  intelligence  behind  them  ?  What  proof  is  there 
of  the  consciousness  in  the  friend  at  my  side?  How 
can  I  be  assured  that  he  is  not  a  mere  automaton, 
totally  unconscious  of  its  own  movements?  The  war¬ 
rant  for  the  contrary  inference  lies  in  the  fact,  that 
being  possessed  of  consciousness,  and  acquainted  with 
its  effects  in  myself,  I  regard  like  effects  as  evidence 
of  a  like  principle  in  others.  But  in  this  inference  1 
transcend  the  limits  of  sense  and  physical  experiment. 
In  truth,  in  admitting  the  reality  of  consciousness  in 
myself,  I  take  a  step  which  no  physical  observation  can 
justify.  Were  the  brain  opened  to  view,  no  microscope, 
were  its  power  infinitely  augmented,  could  discover  the 
least  trace  of  it. 

The  alternative  of  design  is  chance.  The  Epicurean 
theory,  as  expounded  by  Lucretius,  made  the  world 
the  result  of  the  fortuitous  concourse  of  atoms,  which, 
in  their  motions  and  concussions,  at  length  fell  into  the 
orderly  forms  in  which  they  abide.  The  postulate  of 
this  theory  is  the  infinite  duration  of  the  world.  But 
“  no  time  can  really  exhaust  chance  :  chance  is  as  infi¬ 
nite  as  time.”  And  the  postulate  of  infinite  time  is 
excluded  if  the  nebular  hypothesis  is  well  founded. 
The  time  in  which  the  primitive  material  has  consumed 
in  arriving  at  the  present  system  is  finite.  It  is  some¬ 
times  said  that  the  order  of  the  universe  is  possible , 
because  it  actually  is.  The  question,  however,  is  not 
whether  it  is  possible,  but  whether  it  is  possible  with¬ 
out  an  intelligent  Cause.  The  Stiasbourg  Minster  is 


52  THE  GROUNDS  OF  T1IEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


possible,  but  not  possible  without  an  architect  and 
builder. 

If  we  admit  the  Lucretian  hypothesis  of  the  origin  of 
the  material  universe,  as  we  behold  it,  from  the  combi¬ 
nation  of  atoms  without  special  acts  of  creation,  we  do 
not  get  rid  of  the  proof  of  design.  Why  did  the  multi¬ 
tudinous  atoms  fail  to  combine  in  an  orderly  and  stable 
way  up  to  the  moment  when  the  existing  cosmos  was 
reached?  Manifestly  they  must  have  been,  in  their 
constitution  and  mutual  relations,  adapted  to  the  pres¬ 
ent  structure  of  things,  and  to  no  other.  The  present 
system  was  anticipated  in  the  very  make  of  the  atoms, 
the  constituent  elements  of  the  universe.  The  atoms, 
then,  present  the  same  evidences  of  design  which  the 
outcome  of  their  revolutions  presents.  We  might  be 
at  a  loss  to  explain  why  the  Author  of  Nature  chose 
this  circuitous  way,  through  abortive  experiments,  to 
the  goal ;  but  that  the  goal  was  in  view  from  the  begin¬ 
ning  is  evident. 

The  doctrine  of  evolution  (unless  materialism  is  con¬ 
nected  with  it)  is  not  inconsistent  with  the  argument 
from  design.  Evolution  is  antithetical  to  special  acts 
of  creation,  and  professes  to  explain  the  origin  of  the 
different  species  of  animals  and  plants  by  the  agency  of 
second  causes.  It  is  held  that  they  are  descendants  of  a 
few  progenitors  with  which  they  stand  in  a  genetic  con¬ 
nection.  Some  would  extend  the  theory,  and  make  life 
itself  the  natural  product  of  inorganic  forms,  —  a  propo¬ 
sition  for  which,  however,  there  is  no  scientific  proof. 
But  the  evolution  theory,  even  in  its  broadest  form,  —  in 
which  the  network  of  genetic  causation  is  stretched 
over  all  forms,  whether  living  or  lifeless,  as  far  back  as  a 
nebulous  vapor,  — gives,  and  pretends  to  give,  no  expla¬ 
nation,  either  of  the  origin  of  the  world  as  a  whole 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


53 


or  of  tlie  order  and  adaptations  that  characterize  it. 
The  different  theories  of  evolution  should  not  be  com 
founded.  There  is  the  generic  doctrine  of  a  common 
descent  of  animal  organisms,  the  earliest  of  which  may 
or  may  not  have  been  created  outright.  This  doctrine 
is  held  by  many  who  do  not  subscribe  to  the  theory  of 
gradual  or  imperceptible  variations  as  an  explanation . 
at  least  as  a  complete  explanation,  of  the  origin  of  spe 
cies.  These  prefer  the  hypothesis  of  “heterogenetie 
generation,”  —  origin  by  leaps,  or  the  metamorphosis  of 
germs.  Some  would  not  exclude  from  continued  activ¬ 
ity,  especially  in  producing  the  lowest  species,  the  primi 
tive  power  of  organization,  whatever  it  was,  through 
which  the  lowest  species  first  sprung.1  Darwin’s  theory 
is  that  of  natural  selection.  This  hypothesis  refers  the 
animal  kingdom  to  the  operation  of  a  few  agencies 
acting  upon  one  or  more  primitive  living  forms,  and 
producing  from  them  the  numerous  species,  as  well  a? 
varieties  of  species,  which  have  existed  in  the  past,  am? 
now  exist,  on  the  earth.  It  is  obvious  that  these  agen 
cies  are  blind  instrumentalities,  of  which  it  is  true,  in 
the  first  place,  that  the  origin  of  each  requires  to  be 
explained ;  in  the  second  place,  that  their  concurrence 
requires  to  be  accounted  for ;  and,  in  the  third  place, 
that  neither  separately  considered  nor  taken  in  combi¬ 
nation  —  since  they  are  blind,  unintelligent  forces  —  do 
they  avail  in  the  least  to  explain  the  order  and  adapta¬ 
tion  of  Nature  which  result  from  them.  Why  do  living 
beings  engender  offspring  like  themselves?  Why  do 
the  offspring  slightly  vary  from  the  parents  and  from 
one  another?  How  account  for  the  desire  of  food? 

1  The  different  forms  of  the  evolution  theory  are  lucidly  and  instruc¬ 
tively  considered  in  the  excellent  work  of  Rudolf  Schmid,  The  Theori^ 
of  Darwin,  etc.  (Chicago,  1883). 


M  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THE] STIC  4.ND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


How  explain  the  disposition  to  struggle  to  obtain  it  ? 
Why  is  beauty  preferred,  leading  to  “  sexual  selection  ”  ? 
Plow  is  it  that  these  laws  co-exist  and  co-operate?  We 
see  that  they  lead,  according  to  the  Darwinian  view, 
necessarily  to  a  grand  result,  a  system  of  living  beings. 
They  are  actually  means  to  an  intelligible  end.  They 
appear  to  exist,  to  be  ordained  and  established,  with 
reference  to  it.  There  is  a  “  survival  of  the  fittest ;  ” 
but  h®w  were  uthe  fittest”  produced?  Natural  selec¬ 
tion  merely  weeds  out  and  destroys  the  products  which 
are  not  the  fittest.  It  produces  nothing.  But  it  works, 
in  conjunction  with  the  force  described  as  “heredity” 
and  the  force  described  as  “variability,”  to  work  out 
an  order  of  things  which  plainly  shows  itself  to  have 
been  preconceived.  The  fallacy’of  excluding  design  or 
final  causes  where  it  is  possible  to  trace  out  efficient  or 
instrumental  causes  would  be  astonishing  if  it  were  not 
so  frequently  met  with.  It  were  to  be  wished  that  all 
naturalists  were  as  discriminating  as  Professor  Owen, 
who  says,  — 

“  Natural  evolution  by  means  of  slow  physical  and  organic  oper¬ 
ations  through  long  ages  is  not  the  less  clearly  recognizable  as  the 
act  of  all-adaptive  mind,  because  we  have  abandoned  the  old  error 
of  supposing  it  to  be  the  result  of  a  primary,  direct,  and  sudden 
act  of  creational  construction.  .  .  .  The  succession  of  species  by 
continuously  operating  law  is  not  necessarily  a  ‘blind  operation.’ 
8uch  law,  however  discerned  in  the  properties  of  natural  objects, 
intimates,  nevertheless,  a  preconceived  progress.  Organisms  may 
be  evolved  in  orderly  manner,  stage  after  stage,  towards  a  foreseen 
goal,  and  the  broad  features  of  the  course  may  still  show  the  unmis¬ 
takable  impress  of  divine  volition.” 1 

Evolution  has  to  do  with  the  how ,  and  not  the  why ,  of 
phenomena :  hence  the  evolutionist  is  powerless  against 

1  Transactions  of  the  Geological  Society,  v.  90,  quoted  by  Mivart, 
The  Genesis  of  Species,  p.  274. 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GOD.  5S 

the  teleological  argument.  This  is  true  of  the  theory 
of  evolution  in  the  widest  stretch  that  has  been  given 
it.  This  consistency  of  evolution  with  design  is  affirmed 
by  Professor  Huxley:  — 

“  The  teleological  and  the  mechanical  views  of  nature  are  not 
necessarily  mutually  exclusive.  On  the  contrary,  the  more  purely  a 
mechanist  the  speculator  is,  the  more  firmly  does  he  affirm  primor¬ 
dial  nebular  arrangement,  of  which  all  the  phenomena  of  the  uni¬ 
verse  are  consequences,  the  more  completely  is  he  thereby  at  the 
mercy  of  the  teleologist,  who  can  always  defy  him  to  disprove  that 
this  primordial  nebular  arrangement  was  not  intended  to  evolve 
the  phenomena  of  the  universe.”  1 

This  intention  is  recognized  in  the  outcome  as  related 
to  the  unconscious  agencies  leading  to  it,  as  well  as  in 
the  constitution  of  these  primordial  agencies,  —  recog¬ 
nized  by  the  same  faculty  of  reason  through  which  we 
are  made  capable  of  tracing  phenomena  to  their  appro¬ 
priate  causes. 

In  another  place,  writing  in  a  less  philosophical  spirit, 
Professor  Huxley,  by  way  of  comment  on  Paley’s  illus¬ 
tration  from  the  watch,  says  :  — 

“  Suppose  only  that  one  had  been  able  to  show  that  the  watch 
had  not  been  made  directly  by  any  person,  but  that  it  was  the  result 
of  the  modification  of  another  watch,  which  kept  time  but  poorly ; 
and  that  this,  again,  had  proceeded  from  a  structure  which  could 
hardly  be  called  a  watch  at  all,  seeing  that  it  had  no  figures  on  the 
dial  and  the  hands  were  rudimentary ;  and  that,  going  back  and 
back,  in  time  wTe  came  at  last  to  a  revolving  barrel  as  the  earliest 
traceable  rudiment  of  the  whole  fabric.  And  imagine  that  all 
these  changes  had  resulted,  first,  from  a  tendency  of  the  structuie 
to  vary  indefinitely,  and,  secondly,  from  something  in  the  surround¬ 
ing  world  which  helped  all  variations  in  the  direction  of  an  accu¬ 
rate  time-keeper,  and  checked  all  these  in  other  directions,  and 
then  it  is  obvious  that  the  force  of  Paley’s  argument  would  be 

1  Critiques,  p.  307. 


56  TIIE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


gone ;  for  it  would  be  demonstrated  that  an  apparatus  thoroughly 
well  adapted  to  a  particular  purpose  might  be  the  result  of  a 
method  of  trial  and  error  worked  by  unintelligent  agents,  as  well 
as  of  the  direct  application  of  the  means  appropriate  to  that  end.** 1 


Here  we  have  “  a  revolving  barrel  ”  at  one  end  of  the 
line,  and  a  watch  with  its  complex  apparatus,  by  which 
it  is  fitted  to  record  time,  at  the  other.  At  the  outset, 
the  barrel,  with  its  inherent  capacities,  requires  to  be 
accounted  for,  then  the  tendency  to  vary  indefinitely, 
then  that  something  which  limits  the  course  of  variation 
to  one  path.  This  combination  of  means  implies  the 
presence  and  action  of  intelligence.  The  actual  end 
evinces  that  “  the  means  appropriate  to  that  end  ”  were 
applied  to  the  production  of  it. 

Whether  natural  selection  really  plays  so  important  a 
part  in  the  origin  of  species  as  Mr.  Darwin  thinks,  is, 
to  say  the  least,  doubtful.  The  acknowledged  mystery 
that  hangs  about  the  facts  of  correlation,  to  say  noth¬ 
ing  of  the  difficulties  connected  with  the  infertility 
of  hybrids,  may  warrant  the  surmise  that  the  laws  of 
growth  have  not  been  fathomed,  and  that  the  theory 
of  natural  selection  may  have  to  be  qualified,  even  more 
than  its  author,  with  all  his  liberality  of  concession  in 
his  later  editions,  allowed.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the 
analogy  between  the  operation  of  natural  selection  and 
the  action  of  intelligence  Mr.  Darwin’s  language  abun¬ 
dantly  implies. 

If  there  is  any  place  where,  on  the  Darwinian  philoso¬ 
phy,  chance  is  to  be  met  with,  it  is  in  the  sphere  of 
variability.  It  is  a  topic,  therefore,  which  requires 
attentive  consideration.  On  this  subject  Mr.  Darwin 
Bays :  — 


1  Lay  Sermons,  pp.  330,  331. 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


57 


“I  have  hitherto  sometimes  spoken  as  if  the  variations  —  so 
common  and  multiform  with  organic  beings  under  domestication, 
and,  in  a  lesser  degree,  wfith  those  in  a  state  of  nature  —  had  been 
due  to  chance.  This,  of  course,  is  a  wholly  incorrect  expression ; 
but  it  serves  to  acknowledge  plainly  our  ignorance  of  the  cause 
cf  each  particular  variation.” 1 

Nothing  occurs  without  a  cause.  But  it  is  another 
question  whether,  in  this  department  of  the  action  of 
natural  forces,  design  is  discoverable.  Mr.  Darwin 
appears  to  hold  that  variability  furnishes  the  materials 
for  natural  selection  to  act  upon,  but  without  reference 
to  such  prospective  action.  In  regard  to  the  observa- 
ion  of  Dr.  Asa  Gray,2  that  “  variation  has  been  led 
along  certain  beneficial  lines,”  he  says :  — 

“  The  shape  of  the  fragments  of  stone  at  the  base  of  our  preci¬ 
pice  may  be  called  accidental ;  but  this  is  not  strictly  correct,  for 
the  shape  of  each  depends  on  a  long  sequence  of  events,  all  obey¬ 
ing  natural  laws,  —  on  the  nature  of  the  rock,  on  the  lines  of  strati¬ 
fication  or  cleavage,  on  the  form  of  the  mountain  which  depends 
on  its  upheaval  and  subsequent  denudation,  and,  lastly,  on  the 
storm  and  earthquake  which  threw  down  the  fragments.  But,  in 
regard  to  the  use  to  which  the  fragments  may  be  put,  their  shape 
may  strictly  be  said  to  be  accidental.  And  here  we  are  led  to  face 
a  great  difficulty,  in  alluding  to  which  I  am  aware  that  I  am  travel¬ 
ling  beyond  my  proper  province. 

“  An  omniscient  Creator  must  have  foreseen  every  consequence 
which  results  from  the  laws  imposed  by  him  ;  but  can  it  be  rea¬ 
sonably  maintained  that  the  Creator  intentionally  ordered,  if  we 
use  the  words  in  any  ordinary  sense,  that  certain  fragments  of 
rock  should  assume  certain  shapes,  so  that  the  builder  might  erect 
his  edifice?  If  the  various  laws  which  have  determined  the  shape 
of  each  fragment  were  not  predetermined  for  the  builder’s  sake, 
can  it  with  any  greater  probability  be  maintained  that  he  specially 
ordained,  for  the  sake  of  the  breeder,  each  of  the  innumerable 
variations  in  our  domestic  animals  and  plants;  many  of  these 
variations  being  of  no  service  to  man,  and  not  beneficial,  far  more 

i  Origin  of  Species,  p.  137.  2  Darwiniana,  p.  148 


58  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


often  injurious,  to  the  creatures  themselves  ?  Did  he  ordain  that 
the  crop  and  tail-feathers  of  the  pigeon  should  vary,  in  order  that 
the  fancier  might  make  his  grotesque  powter  and  fantail  breeds  ? 
Did  he  cause  the  frame  and  mental  qualities  of  the  dog  to  vary, 
in  order  that  a  breed  might  be  formed  of  indomitable  ferocity, 
with  jaws  fitted  to  pin  down  the  bull  for  man’s  brutal  sport? 
Rut  if  we  g.ve  up  the  principle  in  one  case;  if  we  do  not  admit 
that  the  variations  of  the  primeval  dog  were  intentionally  guided, 
in  order  that  the  greyhound,  for  instance,  that  perfect  image  of 
symmetry  and  vigor,  might  be  formed,  —  no  shadow  of  reason  can 
be  assigned  for  the  belief  that  the  variations,  alike  in  nature,  and 
the  result  of  the  same  general  laws  wThich  have  been  the  ground¬ 
work  through  natural  selection  of  the  formation  of  the  most 
perfectly  adapted  animals  in  the  world,  man  included,  were  inten¬ 
tionally  and  specially  guided.  However  much  we  may  w’sh  it;  we 
can  hardly  follow  Professor  Asa  Gray  in  his  belief  that  f  variation 
has  been  led  along  certain  beneficial  lines,’  like  a  stream  ‘along 
definite  and  useful  lines  of  irrigation.’ 

“  If  we  assume  that  each  particular  variation  was  from  the 
beginning  of  all  time  pre-ordained,  the  plasticity  of  the  organiza¬ 
tion,  which  leads  to  many  injurious  deviations  of  structure,  as  well 
as  that  redundant  power  of  reproduction  which  inevitably  leads 
to  a  struggle  for  existence,  and,  as  a  consequence,  to  the  natural 
selection,  and  survival  of  the  fittest,  must  appear  to  us  superfluous 
laws  of  nature.  On  the  other  hand,  an  omnipotent  and  omniscient 
Creator  ordains  every  thing,  and  foresees  every  thing.  Thus  we 
are  brought  face  to  face  with  a  difficulty  as  insoluble  as  is  that  of 
free-will  and  predestination.”1 

Here  Mr.  Darwin  appears  to  find  evidences  of  de¬ 
sign  in  the  agencies  which  are  concerned  in  natural 
selection ;  but  with  reference  to  variability,  which  fur¬ 
nishes  the  materials  on  which  natural  selection  oper¬ 
ates,  he  can  see  no  proof  of  design  as  regards  the  use  to 
be  made  of  its  results  in  building  up  animal  structures. 
Yet  foresight  and  plan  must  be  assumed  everywhere : 
hence  he  is  brought  to  an  antinomy,  an  irreconcilable 
contradiction. 

1  Animals  and  Plants  under  Domestication,  ii.  431. 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


59 


This  is  a  strange  conclusion.  Indefinite  variability 
is  the  assumed  fact  on  which  this  reasoning  proceeds. 
Granting,  for  the  moment,  that  there  is  ground  for  this 
assumption,  let  us  look  closely  at  the  inferences  con¬ 
nected  with  it.  In  the  first  place,  what  if  the  same 
Agent  which  broke  in  pieces  the  rock,  and  cast  its  frag¬ 
ments  down  at  the  base  of  the  precipice,  were  the 
architect  and  builder  of  the  edifice  ?  Should  we  ques 
tion  that  this  providing  of  the  materials  had  reference 
to  the  purpose  in  view?  Even  if  the  method  chosen 
by  the  Agent  for  creating  the  materials  struck  us  as 
wasteful,  or  otherwise  wanting  in  skill,  should  we  doubt 
that  it  was  part  of  a  plan  ?  It  is  the  same  Agent,  the 
same  Universal  Power,  which  is  manifest  in  natural 
selection,  that  is  exerted  in  producing  the  phenomena 
of  variability  on  which  natural  selection  acts.  In  the 
second  place,  Mr.  Darwin  mixes  up  a  moral  question,  a 
question  pertaining  to  the  theodicy,  with  the  distinct 
problem  whether  design  is,  or  is  not,  manifest  in  the 
origination  of  animal  structures.  Why  God  should  plan 
to  give  existence  to  this  or  that  animal,  or  frame  nature 
so  that  man  may  direct  and  combine  laws  in  such  a  way 
as  to  modify  animal  structures  in  this  or  that  direction, 
is  a  question  apart.  It  is  one  question  whether  there 
is  arrangement:  it  is  another  question  whether  that 
arrangement  is  merciful  or  not.  Here  general  laws  — 
the  consideration  of  order  —  comes  in,  and  evolution 
may  help  natural  theology.  In  the  third  place,  Mr. 
Darwin’s  remarks  seem  to  imply  that  only  a  single  pur¬ 
pose  can  be  aimed  at  in  the  creative  activity.  The 
rocks  which  are  heaped  up  at  the  foot  of  the  precipice, 
if  they  were  intended  for  the  benefit  of  the  builder  who 
uses  them,  may  also  serve  other  uses,  —  uses  possibly 
inscrutable  to  us.  The  laws,  to  say  the  least,  under 


(50  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


which  they  come  to  be  what  they  are,  were  the  whole 
sweep  of  their  operation  and  results  understood,  might 
be  seen  to  be  for  the  best. 

Teleology  is  not  disproved  by  gradualness  of  devel¬ 
opment.  The  evolution  theory  is  not  laid  under  the 
necessity  of  so  far  contradicting  the  natural  convictions 
of  the  race  as  to  make  the  human  eye  an  undesigned 
result  of  unthinking  forces.  Design  is  recognized  by 
able  naturalists  who  give  large  room  for  the  poten¬ 
tiality  of  protoplasm ;  and  its  plasticity  under  the  influ¬ 
ence  of  environment  is  one  of  the  phases  of  evolution 
doctrine  which  is  not  without  eminent  advocates  among 
the  students  of  nature.  Function  or  future  use  be¬ 
comes,  under  this  view,  the  formative  idea  which  spe¬ 
cializes  organs,  and  determines  structure.  An  acute 
naturalist  who  favors  this  hypothesis  thus  writes  upon 
sexual  differences,  one  of  the  most  impressive  illustra¬ 
tions  of  design :  — 

“  Instead  of  thus  eliminating  by  degrees  every  trace  of  finality 
in  sexuality,  till  we  merge  into  merely  mechanical  results,  is  it  not 
j  ust  as  logical  to  say  that  the  sexuality  of  mammalia  and  flower¬ 
ing  plants  was  potentially  visible  in  the  conjugation  of  monera 
and  plasmodia  ?  and  that  the  ‘  sexual  idea  ’  has  reigned  throughout, 
function  ever  dominating  structure,  till  the  latter  had  conformed 
to  the  more  complete  function  by  becoming  specialized  more  and 
more  ?  Or,  in  the  words  of  Janet,  ‘  The  agreement  of  several  phe¬ 
nomena,  bound  together  with  a  future  determinate  phenomenon, 
supposes  a  cause  in  which  that  future  phenomenon  is  ideally  repre¬ 
sented  ;  and  the  probability  of  the  presumption  increases  with  the 
complexity  of  the  concordant  phenomena  and  the  numbei  of 
relations  which  unite  them  to  the  final  phenomena.’”1 

The  writer  last  named  also  observes:  — 

“  Finality  is  certainly  not  destroyed,  whether  we  believe  organs 
to  have  been  developed  by  evolution,  or  to  have  been  created  in 

1  Janet,  Final  Causes,  p.  55  :  Final  Causes,  by  Mr.  George  Hens, 
cw.  in  Modern  Review,  January,  1881. 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  HIE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


61 


some  analogous  manner  to  the  fabrication  of  a  steam-engine  bj 
man.  For  my  own  part,  I  still  hold  to  the  theory  that  uses  cause 
adaptations ,  on  the  principle  that  function  precedes  structure.  Thus 
as  a  graminivorous  animal  has  its  food  already  (so  to  say)  cut  up 
into  slices  in  grass-blades,  it  does  not  require  scissors  to  reduce  it 
to  small  pieces  in  order  to  make  a  convenient  mouthful.  But  a 
carnivorous  animal  has  a  large  lump  of  flesh  in  the  shape  of  a 
carcass.  It  requires  to  cut  it  up.  The  action  of  biting,  in  order 
to  do  this  previous  to  masticating,  has  converted  its  teeth  into 
scissor-like  carnassials ;  and,  as  it  can  no  longer  masticate,  it  bolts 
the  pieces  whole.  So,  too,  man  would  never  have  thought  of 
making  scissors,  unless  he  had  had  something  that  he  wanted  to  cut 
up.  The  parallel  is  complete  :  only  in  the  one  case  it  is  spontane¬ 
ously  effected  by  the  plasticity  and  adaptability  of  living  matter, 
and  in  the  other  case  it  is  artificially  produced  by  the  conscious¬ 
ness  and  skill  of  man.”  1 

It  is  plain  that  the  extreme  form  of  Darwinian 
theory,  which  holds  to  a  boundless  variability  in  proto¬ 
plasm,  and  puts  the  whole  differentiating  power  in  the 
environment,  does  not  get  rid  of  design.  The  outer 
conditions  are  made  to  determine  every  thing.  But 
since  there  is  an  upward  progress  from  the  simplest 
organisms  to  the  most  complicated  and  perfect;  since, 
moreover,  this  process  of  building  up  an  orderly  sys¬ 
tem,  as  regards  the  proximate  causes,  is  necessary,  — 
chance  is  excluded.  The  alternative  of  chance  is 
design. 

But  the  assumption  of  limitless  variability  is  untena¬ 
ble.  Out  of  variations  numberless  there  must  appear 
individual  peculiarities  adapted  to  give  success  in  the 
struggle  for  existence.  Then,  in  “this  ocean  of  fluc¬ 
tuation  and  metamorphosis,”  variations  coinciding  with 
these  must  appear,  from  generation  to  generation,  to 
join  on  to  them  and  to  build  up  a  highly  organized 
species.  The  series  of  chances  required  to  be  overcome 


62  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEIST1C  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


Is  infinite.1  Such  a  miracle  of  luck  is  incredible.  More¬ 
over,  mere  selection  on  the  basis  of  lawless  variability 
will  not  account  for  organs  and  members,  which,  how¬ 
ever  useful  when  fully  grown,  in  their  beginnings  do 
not  help,  and  may  hinder,  the  animal  in  its  struggle  for 
existence.  Variation  is  under  restraint.  It  is  the  result 
of  an  internal  as  well  as  external  factor.  Professor 
Huxley  himself  suggests  that  “further  inquiries  may 
prove  that  variability  is  definite,  and  is  determined  in 
certain  directions  rather  than  others.  It  is  quite  con¬ 
ceivable  that  every  species  tends  to  produce  varieties 
of  a  limited  number  and  kind,”  etc.2  The  response  of 
the  organism  to  exterior  influences  is  determined  by 
impulses  within  itself.  This  is  the  teaching  of  eminent 
naturalists,  as  Mivart,  Owen,  and  Virchow.  Dana,  in 
his  lectures  to  his  classes,  shows  that  variation  is 
limited  by  “fundamental  laws.”  Gray  teaches  that 
“variations” — in  other  words,  “the  differences  be¬ 
tween  plants  and  animals  —  are  evidently  not  from  with¬ 
out,  but  from  within ;  not  physical,  but  physiological.” 
The  occult  power  “  does  not  act  vaguely,  producing  all 
sorts  of  variations  from  a  common  centre,”  etc.  He 
affirms,  that  “  as  species  do  not  now  vary  at  all  times 
and  places,  and  in  all  directions,  nor  produce  crude, 
vague,  imperfect,  and  useless  forms,  there  is  no  reason 
for  supposing  that  they  ever  did.” 3  The  philosopher 
Von  Hartmann  ingeniously  compares  natural  selection 
to  the  bolt  and  coupling  in  a  machine,  but  affirms  that 
“the  driving  principle,”  which  called  new  species  into 
existence,  lay  or  originated  in  the  organisms.4  Darwin 
himself,  in  his  Descent  of  Man ,  frankly  allows  that  he 

1  See  Schmid,  p.  103;  Mozley,  Essays,  vol.  ii.  pp.  387  seq. 

*  Encycl.  Brit.,  art.  “  Evolution,’ ’  vol.  viii.  p.  751. 

8  Darwiniana,  pp.  386,  387.  4  See  Schmid,  p.  107 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


63 


has  exaggerated  natural  selection  as  a  cause,  since  it 
fails  to  account  for  structures  which  are  neither  bene¬ 
ficial  nor  injurious.1  Here,  as  in  regard  to  the  correla¬ 
tion  of  parts  and  organs,  he  falls  back  on  mystery. 
44  The  causes  and  conditions  of  variation,”  writes  Pro¬ 
fessor  Huxley,  “  have  yet  to  be  thoroughly  explored ; 
and  the  importance  of  natural  selection  will  not  be 
impaired,  even  if  further  inquiries  should  prove  that 
variability  is  definite,  and  is  determined  in  certain 
directions  rather  than  others  by  conditions  inherent  in 
that  which  varies.  It  is  quite  conceivable  that  every 
species  tends  to  produce  varieties  of  a  limited  number 
and  kind,  and  that  the  effect  of  natural  selection  is  to 
favor  the  development  of  some  of  these,  while  it  opposes 
the  development  of  others  along  their  predetermined 
lines  of  modification.”2  The  upshot  of  the  matter  is, 
that  there  is  no  occasion  for  puzzling  over  the  design 
of  chaotic  and  purposeless  variations,  —  the  stones  of 
all  shapes  at  the  base  of  the  precipice,  —  since  they 
have  only  an  imaginary  existence.  Variation  is  accord¬ 
ing  to  law :  it  tends,  like  the  direct  agents  in  natural 
selection,  to  the  actual  issue,  —  an  orderly  and  beauti¬ 
ful  system  of  organized  beings. 

The  argument  of  design  is  generally  considered  to 
be  an  argument  from  analogy.  Mr.  Mill  says,  — 

“  This  argument  is  not  drawn  from  mere  resemblances  in  nature 
to  the  works  of  human  intelligence,  but  from  the  special  character  of 
these  resemblances.  The  circumstances  in  which  it  is  alleged  that 
the  world  resembles  the  works  of  man  are  not  circumstances  taken 
at  random,  but  are  particular  instances  of  a  circumstance  which 
experience  shows  to  have  a  real  connection  with  an  intelligent 
origin,  —  the  fact  of  conspiring  to  an  end.  The  argument  is  not 

1  Engl,  ed.,  p.  146.  See  Schmid,  p.  106. 

2  Encycl,  Brit.,  vol.  viii.  p.  751. 


64  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIO  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

one,  therefore,  of  mere  analogy.  As  mere  analogy,  it  has  weight; 
but  it  is  more  than  analogy,  it  is  an  inductive  argument.”1 

This  explanation  of  the  character  of  the  aigument 
is  open  to  criticism  in  at  least  one  particular.  If  the 
argument  is  one  of  analogy,  it  is  not  an  inference  from 
what  we  observe  in  products  which  we  have  ascer¬ 
tained  by  experience  to  be  of  human  manufacture. 
The  evidence  of  design  is  not  less  directly  manifest  in 
the  human  eye  or  ear  than  it  would  be  in  a  watch 
when  seen  for  the  first  time.  The  analogy  is  not  be 
tween  things  in  nature  and  things  made  by  human  art. 
The  proper  statement  is,  that,  knowing  what  design 
is  by  the  experience  of  our  own  voluntary  action,  we 
recognize  its  marks  wherever  we  meet  with  them, — 
whether  in  the  products  of  nature,  or  in  works  made 
by  men. 

But  there  is  much  to  be  said  in  behalf  of  the  position 
maintained  by  Trendelenburg,  Dorner,  and  Porter,  that 
final  cause  is  an  a  priori  principle  on  a  level  with  the 
idea  of  efficient  cause.  Is  not  design  taken  for  granted 
in  all  our  approaches  to  nature  ?  Is  not  the  question 
“What  for?”  as  native  to  the  mind  as  the  questions 
“What?”  or  “Whence?”  If  there  are  many  objects 
with  regard  to  which  we  never  inquire  why  they  exist, 
or  why  they  exist  where  and  when  they  do,  the  same  is 
true  as  regards  the  efficient  causes  that  produce  them. 
With  regard  to  things  generally,  there  are  sluggish 
minds  which  seldom  are  stirred  with  a  curiosity  to  know 
what  causes  brought  them  into  being ;  yet  the  a  priori 
character  of  the  principle  of  efficient  cause  is  manifest. 
When  the  question  “  What  for  ?  ”  is  answered,  when 
we  discover  the  use  or  end  of  something  in  nature,  we 

1  Essays  on  Theism,  etc.,  p.  170. 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE. BEING  OF  GOD. 


65 


are  struck  with  a  sensation  of  pleasure  like  that  expe¬ 
rienced  in  a  successful  search  for  causal  antecedents. 
Does  not  this  indicate  that  to  the  comprehension  of 
nature  the  perception  of  design  is  necessary  ?  Inquisi¬ 
tive  students  of  nature,  as  Harvey,  Copernicus,  and 
Newton,  have  been  guided  to  important  discoveries  by 
the  expectation  that  nature  would  be  conformed  to  a 
plan.  Robert  Boyle  tells  us, 

11 1  remember  that  when  I  asked  our  famous  Harvey  what  were 
the  things  that  induced  him  to  think  of  the  circulation  of  the 
blood,  he  answered  me,  that  when  he  took  notice  of  the  valves  in 
many  parts  of  the  body,  so  placed  that  they  gave  free  passage  to 
the  blood  towards  the  heart,  but  opposed  to  the  passage  of  the 
venous  blood  the  contrary  way,  he  was  invited  to  think  that  so 
prudent  a  cause  as  nature  had  not  placed  so  many  valves  without  a 
design,  and  no  design  seemed  more  probable  than  that,  since  the 
blood  could  not  well,  because  of  the  intervening  valves,  be  sent  by 
the  veins  to  the  limits,  it  should  be  sent  through  the  arteries,  and 
returned  through  the  veins,  whose  valves  did  not  oppose  its  course 
that  way.” 

Kepler  was  moved  to  his  discoveries  by  “  an  exalted 
faith,  anterior  and  superior  to  all  science,  in  the  exist¬ 
ence  of  intimate  relations  between  the  constitution  of 
man’s  mind  and  that  of  God’s  firmament.”1  Such  a 
faith  is  at  the  root  of  “  the  prophetic  inspiration  of  the 
geometers,”  which  the  progress  of  observation  verifies. 
Does  not  induction  rest  on  the  assumption  of  design? 
It  is  assumed  that  nature  is  a  system  of  thought-rela¬ 
tions  :  it  is  an  orderly,  intelligible  system.  This  implies 
fcha  :  things  are  harmoniously  adjusted  to  one  another, 
and  that  there  is  a  mutual  interdependence  between 
nature  and  mind.  There  is  an  adaptation  of  the  object 
of  investigation  to  the  organ  of  knowledge,  and  vice 

1  Peirce,  Ideality  in  the  Physical  Sciences,  p.  17. 


66  THE  GROUNDS  OR  iHElSl'lC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


versa.  At  the  basis  of  induction  is  the  postulate  of  the 
uniformity  of  nature.  This  principle  is  not  the  result 
of  induction :  it  is  the  silent  premise  in  every  induc¬ 
tive  argument.  Induction  does  not  give  validity  to  it, 
but  borrows  validity  from  it.  But  this  uniformity  of 
nature,  or  stated  recurrence  of  phenomena,  involves  a 
plan.  What  is  meant  by  the  explanation  of  any  object 
of  nature?  What  is  to  explain  any  particular  organ  in 
a  living  being  ?  It  is  requisite  to  define  its  end.  There 
can  be  :io  explanation  of  an  organism  which  does  not 
presuppose  adaptation.  Says  Janet,  — 

“  Laplace  perceived  that  the  simplest  laws  are  the  most  likely 
to  be  true.  But  I  do  not  see  why  it  should  be  so  on  the  supposi¬ 
tion  of  an  absolutely  blind  cause ;  for,  after  all,  the  inconceivable 
swiftness  which  the  system  of  Ptolemy  supposed  has  nothing  physi¬ 
cally  impossible  in  it,  and  the  complication  of  movements  has 
nothing  incompatible  with  the  idea  of  a  mechanical  cause.  Why, 
then,  do  we  expect  to  find  simple  movements  in  nature,  and  speed 
in  proportion,  except  because  we  instinctively  attribute  a  sort  of 
intelligence  and  choice  to  the  First  Cause  ?  ” 

Janet  does  not  consider  the  idea  of  design  to  be  a 
priori .  But  does  not  this  question,  and  the  whole  para¬ 
graph  which  we  are  quoting,  imply  it  ?  He  goes  on  to 
say,  — 

“ Now,  experience  justifies  this  hypothesis:  at  least  it  did  so 
with  Copernicus  and  Galileo.  It  did  so,  according  to  Laplace,  in 
the  debate  between  Clairaut  and  Buffon ;  the  latter  maintaining 
against  the  former  that  the  law  of  attraction  remained  the  same  at 
all  distances.  ‘This  time,’  says  Laplace,  ‘the  metaphysician  was 
right  as  against  the  geometrician.’  ”  1 

The  intuition  of  the  Unconditioned  Being  involves 
the  infinitude  of  his  natural  attributes.  He  is  inde* 
pendent  of  temporal  limitations ;  that  is,  he  is  eternal 

1  Final  Causes,  p.  168. 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GOD. 


67 


He  is  independent  of  spatial  limitations ;  that  is,  he  is 
omnipresent.  The  categories  of  space  and  time  cannot 
be  applied  to  him,  —  a  truth  which  we  can  only  express 
by  saying  that  he  is  above  time  and  space.  His  power 
is  infinite  ;  that  is,  it  can  do  every  thing  which  is  an 
object  of  power,  and  admits  of  no  imaginable  increase. 
His  knowledge,  since  final  causes  reveal  his  personality, 
is  equally  without  limit. 

IV.  The  moral  argument.  The  righteousness  and 
goodness  of  God  are  evident  from  conscience.  Right  is 
the  supreme,  sole  authoritative  impulse  in  the  soul.  He 
who  planted  it  there,  and  gave  it  this  imperative  char¬ 
acter,  must  himself  be  righteous.  From  the  testimony 
of  “the  vicegerent  within  the  heart”  we  infer  “the 
righteousness  of  the  Sovereign  who  placed  it  there.” 

But  what  are  the  contents  of  the  law?  What  has 
he  bidden  man,  by  “the  law  written  on  the  heart,” 
to  be  and  to  do  ?  He  has  enjoined  goodness.  When 
we  discover  that  the  precept  of  the  unwritten  law 
of  conscience  is  love,  we  have  the  clearest  and  most 
undeniable  evidence  that  love  is  the  preference  of  the 
Lawgiver,  and  that  he  is  love. 

The  argument  from  conscience  is  a  branch  of  the 
argument  from  final  causes.  In  this  inward  law  there 
is  revealed  the  end  of  our  being,  —  an  end  not  to  be 
realized,  as  in  physical  nature,  by  a  method  of  neces¬ 
sity,  but  freely.  We  are  to  make  ourselves  what  our 
Maker  designed  us  to  be.  The  law  is  the  ideal,  the 
thought  of  the  Creator,  and  a  spur  to  its  realization. 
It  discloses  the  holiness  of  God,  as  design  in  the  ex¬ 
ternal  world  reveals  his  intelligence.  This  truth  is 
forcibly  expressed  by  Erskine  of  Linlatlien :  “  When  I 
attentively  consider  what  is  going  on  in  my  conscience, 
the  chief  thing  forced  on  my  notice  is,  that  I  find 


68  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


myself  face  to  face  with  a  purpose  —  not  my  own,  for 
I  am  often  conscious  of  resisting  it,  but  which  domi¬ 
nates  me,  and  makes  itself  felt  as  ever  present,  as  the 
very  root  and  reason  of  my  being.”  “  This  conscious¬ 
ness  of  a  purpose  concerning  me  that  I  should  be  a 
good  man  —  right,  true,  and  unselfish  —  is  the  first  firm 
footing  I  have  in  the  region  of  religious  thought ;  for 
I  cannot  dissociate  the  idea  of  a  purpose  from  that 
of  a  purposer ;  and  I  cannot  but  identify  this  Purposer 
with  the  Author  of  my  being  and  the  being  of  all 
beings ;  and,  further,  I  cannot  but  regard  his  purpose 
towards  me  as  the  unmistakable  indication  of  his  own 
character.”  1 

Is  this  conviction,  which  the  very  constitution  of  our 
being  compels  us  to  cherish,  contradicted  by  the  course 
of  the  world?  There  is  moral  evil  in  the  world.  But 
moral  evil,  though  he  permits,  he  does  not  cause.  Nor 
can  this  permission  be  challenged  as  unrighteous  or 
unjust,  until  it  is  proved  that  there  are  not  incompati¬ 
bilities  between  the  most  desirable  system  of  created 
things,  including  beings  endowed  with  free  agency,  and 
the  exclusion,  by  direct  power,  of  the  abuse  of  that 
divine  gift  by  which  man  resembles  his  Creator.  If  it 
were  made  probable  that  the  permission  of  moral  evil  is 
inconsistent  with  infinite  power  and  infinite  goodness,  or 
with  both,  the  result  would  simply  be  a  contradiction 
between  the  revelation  of  God  in  our  intuition  of  un¬ 
conditioned  being  and  in  our  own  moral  nature,  and  the 
disclosure  of  him  in  the  course  of  the  world. 

If  we  are  content  to  leave  the  permission  of  moral 
evil,  the  problem  of  the  theodicy,  an  unfathomable 
mystery,  which  only  ignorance  will  bring  toward  as  an 

1  The  Spiritual  Order  anf  other  Papers,  pp.  47,  48.  See  Flint,  The¬ 
ism,  p.  402. 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  BEING  OF  GC  ). 


69 


objection  to  divine  power  and  goodness,  we  may  discern 
abundant  traces  of  God’s  rectitude  and  benevo'ence  in 
the  career  of  individuals,  families,  and  nations. 

V.  History,  as  containing  at  once  a  providential 
order  and  a  moral  order  enclosed  with  n  it,  discovers 
God.  Events  do  not  take  place  in  a  chaotic  series.  A 
progress  is  discernible,  an  orderly  succession  of  phenom¬ 
ena,  the  accomplishment  of  ends  by  the  concurrence  of 
agencies  beyond  the  power  of  individuals  to  originate 
or  combine.  There  is  a  power  that  “  makes  for  right¬ 
eousness.”  Amid  all  the  disorder  of  the  world,  as  Bishop 
Butler  has  convincingly  shown,  there  is  manifested,  on 
the  part  of  the  Power  which  governs,  an  approbation  of 
right  and  a  condemnation  of  wrong,  analogous  to  the 
manifestation  of  justice  and  holiness  which  emanates 
from  righteous  rulers  among  men.  If  righteousness 
appears  to  be  but  imperfectly  carried  out,  it  is  an  indi¬ 
cation  that  in  this  life  the  system  is  incomplete,  and 
that  here  we  see  only  its  beginnings. 

It  is  objected  to  the  belief  that  God  is  personal,  that 
personality  implies  limitation,  and  that,  if  personal,  God 
could  not  be  infinite  and  absolute.  “  Infinite  ”  (and  the 
same  is  true  of  “  absolute  ”)  is  an  adjective,  not  a  sub¬ 
stantive.  When  used  as  a  noun,  preceded  by  the  defi¬ 
nite  article,  it  signifies,  not  a  being,  but  an  abstraction. 
When  it  stands  as  a  predicate,  it  means  that  the  subject, 
be  it  space,  time,  or  some  quality  of  a  being,  is  without 
limit.  Thus,  when  I  affirm  that  space  is  infinite,  I 
express  a  positive  perception,  or  thought.  I  mean  not 
only  that  imagination  can  set  no  bounds  to  space,  but 
also  that  this  inability  is  owing,  not  to  any  defect  in  the 
imagination  or  conceptive  faculty,  but  to  the  nature 
of  the  object.  When  I  say  that  God  is  infinite  in  power. 


TO  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


1  mean  that  he  can  do  all  things  which  are  objects 
of  power,  or  that  his  power  is  incapable  of  increase. 
No  amount  of  power  can  be  added  to  the  power  of  which 
he  is  possessed.  It  is  only  when  “  the  Infinite  ”  is  taken 
as  the  synonyme  of  the  sum  of  all  existence,  that  person¬ 
ality  is  made  to  be  incompatible  with  God’s  infinitude. 
No  such  conception  of  him  is  needed  for  the  satisfaction 
of  the  reason  or  the  heart  of  man.  Enough  that  he  is 
the  ground  of  the  existence  of  all  beings  outside  of 
himself,  or  the  creative  and  sustaining  power.  There 
are  no  limitations  upon  his  power  which  he  has  not 
voluntarily  set.  Such  limitation  —  as  in  giving  being 
to  rational  agents  capable  of  self-determination,  and  in 
allowing  them  scope  for  its  exercise  —  is  not  imposed 
on  him,  but  depends  on  his  own  choice. 

An  absolute  being  is  independent  of  all  other  beings 
for  its  existence  and  for  the  full  realization  of  its 
nature.  It  is  contended,  that  inasmuch  as  self-con¬ 
sciousness  is  conditioned  on  the  distinction  of  the  ego 
from  the  non-ego ,  the  subject  from  the  object,  a  personal 
being  cannot  have  the  attribute  of  self-existence,  cannot 
be  absolute.  Without  some  other  existence  than  him¬ 
self,  a  being  cannot  be  self-conscious.  The  answer  to 
this  is,  that  the  premise  is  an  unwarranted  generalization 
from  what  is  true  in  the  case  of  the  human,  finite  per¬ 
sonality  of  man,  which  is  developed  in  connection  with 
a  body,  and  is  only  one  of  numerous  finite  personalities 
under  the  same  class.  To  assert  that  self-consciousness 
cannot  exist  independently  of  such  conditions,  because 
it  is  through  them  that  I  come  to  a  knowledge  of 
myself,  is  a  great  leap  in  logic.  The  proposition  that 
man  is  in  the  image  of  God  does  not  necessarily  imply 
that  the  divine  intelligence  is  subje:t  to  the  restrictions 
and  infirmities  that  belong  to  the  human.  It  i3  not 


THE  ARGUMENTS  FOR  THE  B1  ING  OF  GOD. 


71 


implied  that  God  ascertains  truth  by  a  gradual  process 
of  investigation  or  of  reasoning,  or  that  he  deliberates 
on  a  plan  of  action,  and  casts  about  for  the  appropriate 
means  of  executing  it.  These  limitations  are  charac* 
teristic,  not  of  intelligence  in  itself,  but  of  finite  in¬ 
telligence.  It  is  meant  that  he  is  not  an  impersonal 
principal  or  occult  force,  but  is  self-conscious  and  self- 
determining.  Nor  is  it  asserted  that  he  is  perfectly 
comprehensible  by  us.  It  is  not  pretended  that  we  are 
able  fully  to  think  away  the  limitations  which  cleave 
to  us  in  our  character  as  dependent  and  finite,  and  to 
frame  thus  an  adequate  conception  of  a  person  infinite 
and  absolute.  Nevertheless,  the  existence  of  such  a 
person,  whom  we  can  apprehend  if  not  comprehend,  is 
verified  to  our  minds  by  sufficient  evidence.  Pantheism, 
with  its  immanent  Absolute,  void  of  personal  attributes, 
and  its  self-developing  universe,  postulates  a  deity  lim¬ 
ited,  subject  to  change,  and  reaching  self-consciousness 
—  if  it  is  ever  reached  —  only  in  men.  And  Pantheism, 
by  denying  the  free  and  responsible  nature  of  man, 
maims  the  creature  whom  it  pretends  to  deify,  and  anni¬ 
hilates  not  only  morality,  but  religion  also,  in  any 
proper  sense  of  the  term. 

The  citadel  of  Theism  is  in  the  consciousness  of  our 
own  personality.  Within  ourselves  God  reveals  him¬ 
self  more  directly  than  through  any  other  channel.  He 
impinges,  so  to  speak,  on  the  soul  which  finds  in  its 
primitive  activity  an  intimation  and  implication  of  an 
unconditioned  Cause  on  whom  it  is  dependent, —  a 
Cause  self-conscious  like  itself,  and  speaking  with  holy 
authority  in  conscience,  wherein  also  is  presented  the 
end  which  the  soul  is  to  pursue  through  its  own  free 
self-determination,  —  an  end  which  could  only  be  set  by 
a  Being  both  intelligent  and  holy.  The  yearning  for 


72  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


fellowship  with  the  Being  thus  revealed  —  indistinct 
though  it  be,  well-nigh  stifled  by  absorption  in  finite 
objects  and  in  the  vain  quest  for  rest  and  joy  in  them  — 
is  inseparable  from  human  nature.  There  is  an  unap¬ 
peased  thirst  in  the  soul  when  cut  off  from  God.  It 

seeks  for  “  living  water.” 

» 

Atheism  is  an  insult  to  humanity.  A  good  man  is  a 
man  with  a  purpose,  a  righteous  purpose.  He  aims  at 
well-being,  —  at  the  well-being  of  himself  and  of  the 
world  of  which  he  forms  a  part.  This  end  he  pursues 
seriously  and  earnestly,  and  feels  bound  to  pursue,  let 
the  cost  to  himself  be  what  it  may.  To  tell  him  that 
while  he  is  under  a  sacred  obligation  to  have  this  pur¬ 
pose,  and  pursue  this  end,  there  is  yet  no  purpose  or 
end  in  the  universe  in  which  he  is  acting  his  part  — 
what  is  this  but  to  offer  a  gross  affront  to  his  reason 
and  moral  sense  ?  He  is  to  abstain  from  frivolity ;  he  is 
to  act  from  an  intelligent  purpose,  for  the  accomplish¬ 
ment  of  rational  ends :  but  the  universe,  he  is  told,  is 
the  offspring  of  gigantic  frivolity.  The  latter  is  with* 
silt  p  m  pose  or  end :  there  chance  or  blind  fate  rules 


CHAPTER  III. 


\ 

THE  PRINCIPAL  ANTI-THEISTIC  THEORIES:  PANTHS 
ISM,  POSITIVISM,  MATERIALISM,  AGNOSTICISM. 

Pantheism  identifies  God  with  the  world,  or  the  sum 
total  of  being.  It  differs  from  Atheism  in  holding  to 
something  besides  and  beneath  finite  things,  —  an  all- 
pervading  Cause  or  Essence.  It  differs  from  Deism  in 
denying  that  God  is  separate  from  the  world,  and  that 
the  world  is  sustained  and  guided  by  energies  imparted 
from  without,  though  inherent  in  it.  It  does  not  differ 
from  Theism  in  affirming  the  immanence  of  God,  for 
this  Theism  likewise  teaches ;  but  it  differs  from  Theism 
in  denying  to  the  immanent  Power  personal  conscious¬ 
ness  and  will,  and  an  existence  independent  of  the 
world.  Pantheism  denies,  and  Theism  asserts,  creation. 
With  the  denial  of  will  and  conscious  intelligence,  Pan 
theism  excludes  design  or  final  causes.  Finite  things 
emerge  into  being,  and  pass  away,  and  the  course  of 
nature  proceeds  through  the  perpetual  operation  of  an 
agency  which  takes  no  cognizance  of  its  work  except 
so  far  as  it  may  arrive  at  self-consciousness  in  man. 

In  the  system  of  Spinoza,  the  most  celebrated  and 
influential  of  modern  Pantheists,  it  is  asserted  that  there 
is>  and  can  be,  but  one  substance,  —  una  et  unica  substa?i- 
tia.  Of  the  infinite  number  of  infinite  attributes  which 
constitute  the  one  substance,  two  are  discerned  by  us,  — 
extension  and  thought.  These,  distinct  in  our  percep 


74  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTH  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


tion,  are  not  disparate  in  the  substance.  Both  being 
manifestations  of  a  simple  ide  ntical  essence,  the  order 
of  existence  is  parallel  to  the  order  of  thought.  All 
individual  things  are  modes  of  one  or  other  of  the  attri¬ 
butes,  that  is,  of  the  substance  as  far  as  it  is  discerned 
by  us.  There  is  a  complete  correspondence  or  harmony, 
although  there  is  no  reciprocal  influence,  between  bodies 
and  minds.  But  the  modes  do  not  make  up  the  sub¬ 
stance,  which  is  prior  to  them :  they  are  transient  as 
ripples  on  the  surface  of  the  sea.  The  imagination  re¬ 
gards  them  as  entities ;  but  reason  looks  beneath  them, 
to  the  eternal  essence  of  which  they  are  but  a  fleeting 
manifestation. 

No  philosopher,  with  the  possible  exception  of  Aris¬ 
totle,  has  been  more  lauded  for  his  rigorous  logic  than 
Spinoza.  In  truth,  few  philosophers  have  included  more 
fallacies  in  the  exposition  of  their  systems.  The  pages 
of  the  Ethics  swarm  with  paralogisms,  all  veiled  under 
the  forms  of  rigid  mathematical  statement.  Ilis  fun¬ 
damental  definitions,  whatever  verbal  precision  may 
belong  to  them,  are,  as  regards  the  realities  of  being, 
unproved  assumptions.  His  reasoning,  from  beginning 
to  end,  is  vitiated  by  the  realistic  presupposition  which 
underlies  the  a  'priori  arguments  of  Anselm  and  Des¬ 
cartes  for  the  being  of  God,  that  the  actual  existence  of 
a  being  can  be  inferred  from  the  definition  of  a  word.1 
He  falls  into  this  mistake  of  finding  proof  of  the  reality 
of  a  thing  from  the  contents  of  a  conception,  in  his  very 
first  definition,  where  he  says,  “  By  that  which  is  the 
cause  of  itself,  I  understand  that  whose  essence  involves 
existence,  or  that  whose  nature  can  only  be  conceived 
as  existent.”  His  argument  is  an  argument  from  defi¬ 
nitions,  without  having  offered  proc  £  of  the  existence  of 

1  See  Ueberweg,  History  of  Philosophy,  ii.  6^. 


THE  PRINCIPAL  ANTI- THEISTIC  TL  EORIES. 


75 


the  tiling  defined.  Spinoza  fails  to  prove  that  only  one 
substance  can  exist,  and  that  no  other  substance  can  be 
brought  into  being  which  is  capable  of  self-activity, 
though  dependent  for  the  origin  and  continuance  of 
its  existence  upon  another.  Why  the  one  and  simple 
substance  should  have  modes ;  why  it  should  have  these 
discoverable  modes,  and  no  other ;  how  the  modes  of 
thought  and  extension  are  made  to  run  parallel  with 
each  other ;  how  the  infinite  variety  of  modes,  embra¬ 
cing  stars  and  suns,  men  and  animals,  minds  and  bodies, 
and  all  other  finite  things,  are  derived  in  their  order 
and  place,  —  these  are  problems  with  regard  to  which 
the  system  of  Spinoza,  though  professing  to  explain 
the  universe  by  a  method  purely  deductive,  leaves  us 
wholly  in  the  dark.1 

The  ideal  Pantheism  of  Fichte,  Schelling,  and  Hegel, 
pursues  a  different  path.  It  undertakes  still  to  unveil 
the  Absolute  Being,  and  from  the  Absolute  to  trace  the 
evolution  of  all  concrete  existences,  mental  and  mate¬ 
rial.  The  Absolute  in  Fichte  is  the  universal  ego ,  of 
which  individual  minds,  together  with  external  things, 
the  objects  of  thoughts,  are  the  phenomenal  product,  — 
-a  universal  ego  which  is  void  of  consciousness,  and  of 
which  it  is  vain  to  attempt  to  form  a  conception. 
Schelling,  avoiding  idealism,  made  the  Absolute  the 
point  of  indifference,  and  common  basis  of  subject  and 
object ;  and  for  the  perception  of  this  impersonal  Deity, 
which  is  assumed  to  be  indefinable,  and  not  an  object 
of  thought,  he  postulated  an  impossible  faculty  of  intel¬ 
lectual  intuition,  wherein  the  individual  escapes  from 

1  One  of  the  hard  questions  proposed  to  Spinoza  by  Tschirnhausern, 
his  correspondent,  was,  how  the  existence  and  variety  of  external 
things  is  to  be  deduced  from  the  attribute  of  extension.  See  Pollock’s 
Spinoza,  His  Life  and  Philosophy,  p.  173. 


76  THE  GROUNDS  OF  TIIEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


himself,  and  soars  above  the  conditions  or  essential 
limits  of  conscious  thinking.  Ilegel,  starting,  like 
Sckelling,  with  the  assumption  that  subject  and  object, 
thought  and  thing,  are  identical,  ventures  on  the  bold 
emprise  of  setting  down  all  the  successive  stages  through 
which  thought  in  its  absolute  or  most  general  form,  by 
means  of  a  kind  of  momentum  assumed  to  inhere  in 
it,  develops  the  entire  chain  of  concepts,  or  the  whole 
variety  and  aggregate  of  particular  existences,  up  to 
the  point  where,  in  the  brain  of  the  philosopher,  the 
universe  thus  constituted  attains  to  complete  self-con¬ 
sciousness.  In  the  logic  of  Hegel,  we  are  told,  the 
universe  reveals  itself  to  the  spectator  with  no  aid  from 
experience  in  the  process  of  its  self-unfolding.  The 
complex  organism  of  thought,  which  is  identical  with 
the  world  of  being,  evolves  itself  under  his  eye. 

There  is  a  difficulty,  to  begin  with,  in  this  self-evolv¬ 
ing  of  “  the  idea.”  Motion  is  presupposed,  and  motion 
is  a  conception  derived  from  experience.  Moreover, 
few  critics  at  present  would  contend  that  all  the  links 
in  this  metaphysical  chain  are  forged  of  solid  metal. 
There  are  breaks  which  are  filled  up  with  an  unsub¬ 
stantial  substitute  for  it.  Transitions  are  effected  — 
for  example,  where  matter,  or  life,  or  mind  emerge  — 
rather  by  sleight  of  hand  than  by  a  legitimate  applica¬ 
tion  of  the  logical  method.  But  if  it  were  granted 
that  the  edifice  is  compact,  and  coherent  in  all  its  parts, 
it  is  still  only  a  ghostly  castle.  It  is  an  ideal  skeleton 
of  a  universe.  Its  value  is  at  best  hypothetical  and 
negative.  If  a  world  were  to  exist,  and  to  be  rationally 
framed,  it  might  possibly  be  conformed  to  this  concep¬ 
tion  or  outline.  Whether  the  world  is  a  reality,  expe¬ 
rience  alone  can  determine.  The  highest  merit  which 
can  be  claimed  for  the  ideal  scheme  of  Hegel  is  such  as 


THE  PRINCIPAL  ANTI-THEISTIC  THEORIES. 


77 


belongs  to  tlie  plans  of  an  architect  as  they  are  con¬ 
ceived  in  his  mind,  before  a  beginning  has  been  made 
of  the  edifice,  or  the  spade  has  touched  the  ground. 

Independently  of  other  difficulties  in  the  way  of  the 
various  theories  of  Pantheism  which  have  been  pro¬ 
pounded  in  ancient  and  modern  times,  it  is  a  sufficient 
refutation  of  them  that  they  stand  in  contradiction  to 
consciousness,  and  that  they  are  at  variance  with  con¬ 
science.  It  is  through  self-consciousness  that  our  first 
notion  of  substance  and  of  unity  is  derived.  The  mani¬ 
fold  operations  of  thought,  feeling,  imagination,  memory, 
affection,  consciously  proceed  from  a  single  source 
within.  The  mind  is  revealed  to  itself  as  a  separate, 
substantial,  undivided  entity.  Pantheism,  in  resolving 
personal  being  into  a  mere  phenomenon,  or  transient 
phase  of  an  impersonal  essence,  and  in  abolishing  the 
gulf  of  separation  between  the  subject  and  the  object, 
clashes  with  the  first  and  clearest  affirmation  of  con¬ 
sciousness. 

Every  system  of  Pantheism  is  necessarian.  It  is  vain 
to  say,  t'i  at,  where  there  is  no  constraint  from  without, 
there  is  freedom  of  the  will.  A  plant  growing  out  of 
a  seed  would  not  become  free  by  becoming  conscious. 
The  determinism  which  refers  all  voluntary  action  to  a 
force  within  which  is  capable  of  moving  only  on  one 
line,  and  is  incapable  of  alternative  action,  is  equiva¬ 
lent,  in  its  bearing  on  responsibility,  to  fatalism.  On 
this  theory,  moral  accountableness  is  an  illusion.1  No 
distinction  is  left  between  natural  history  and  moral 
history.  Pantheism  sweeps  away  the  absolute  antithe¬ 
sis  between  good  and  evil,  the  perception  of  which  is  the 
very  life  of  conscience.  Under  that  philosophy,  evil, 
wherever  it  occurs,  is  normal.  Evil,  when  viewed  in  all 
1  See  Martineau,  A  Study  of  Spinoza,  p.  233. 


78  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CIIRISTxAN  BELIEF. 

its  relations,  is  good.  It  appears  to  be  the  opposite  of 
good,  only  when  it  is  contemplated  in  a  more  restricted 
relation,  and  from  a  point  of  view  too  confined.  Such 
a  judgment  respecting  moral  evil  undermines  morality 
in  theory,  and,  were  it  acted  on,  would  corrupt  soci¬ 
ety.  It  would  dissolve  the  bonds  of  obligation.  In  the 
proportion  in  which  the  unperverted  moral  sense  cor¬ 
responds  tc  the  reality  of  things,  to  that  extent  is 
Pantheism  in  all  of  its  forms  disproved. 

Positivism  is  the  antipode  of  Pantheistic  philosophy. 
So  far  from  laying  claim  to  omniscience,  it  goes  to  the 
other  extreme  of  disclaiming  all  knowledge  of  the  origin 
of  things  or  of  their  interior  nature.  A  fundamental 
principle  of  Positivism,  as  expounded  by  Comte,  is  the 
ignoring  of  both  efficient  and  final  causes.  There  is  no 
proof,  it  is  affirmed,  that  such  causes  exist.  Science 
takes  notice  of  naught  but  phenomena  presented  to  the 
senses.  The  whole  function  of  science  is  to  classify 
facts  under  the  rubrics  of  similarity  and  sequence.  The 
sum  of  human  knowledge  hath  this  extent,  no  more. 
As  for  any  links  of  connection  between  phenomena,  or 
any  plan  under  which  they  occur,  science  knows  noth¬ 
ing  of  either. 

But  where  do  we  get  the  notion  of  similarity,  and  of 
simultaneity  and  succession  in  time?  The  senses  do 
not  provide  us  with  these  ideas.  At  the  threshold, 
then,  Positivism  violates  its  own  primary  maxim.  The 
principle  of  causation  and  the  perception  of  design 
have  a  genesis  which  entitle  them  to  not  less  credit 
than  is  given  to  the  recognition  of  likeness  and  tem¬ 
poral  sequence.  A  Positivist,  however  disposed,  with 
M.  Comte,  to  discard  psychology,  must  admit  that  there 
are  mental  phenomena.  He  must  admit  that  they  form 
together  a  group  having  a  distinct  character.  He 


1HE  PRINCIPAL  ANTI-TIIEISTIC  THEORIES. 


79 


must  refer  them  to  a  distinct  entity,  or  he  must  refer 
them  to  a  material  origin.  In  the  latter  case,  he  lapses 
into  materialism. 

The  law  of  three  successive  states,  —  the  religious,  the 
metaphysical,  and  the  positive,  —  which  Comte  asserted 
to  belong  to  the  history  of  thought,  —  this  law,  in  the 
form  in  which  it  was  proclaimed  by  Comte,  is  without 
foundation  in  historical  fact.  Belief  in  a  personal  God 
has  co-existed,  and  does  now  co-exist,  in  connection  with 
a  belief  in  second  causes,  and  loyalty  to  the  maxims  of 
inductive  investigation. 

Mr.  Mill,  while  adhering  to  the  proposition  that  we 
know  only  phenomena,  attempted  to  rescue  the  Posi¬ 
tivist  scheme  from  scepticism,  which  is  its  proper  corol¬ 
lary,  by  holding  to  something  exterior  to  us,  which  is 
“  the  permanent  possibility  of  sensations,”  and  by  speak¬ 
ing  of  “  a  thread  of  consciousness.”  But  matter  cannot 
be  made  a  something  which  produces  sensations,  with¬ 
out  giving  up  the  Positivist  denial  both  of  causation 
and  of  our  knowledge  of  any  thing  save  phenomena. 
Nor  is  it  possible  to  speak  of  a  “  thread  of  conscious¬ 
ness,”  if  there  be  nothing  in  the  mind  but  successive 
states  of  consciousness.  Mr.  Mill  was  bound  by  a  logi¬ 
cal  necessity  to  deny  the  existence  of  any  thing  except 
mental  sensations,  —  phenomena  of  his  own  individual 
consciousness ;  or  if  he  overstepped  the  limit  of  phe¬ 
nomena,  and  believed  in  “  a  something,”  whether  ma¬ 
terial  or  mental,  he  did  it  at  the  sacrifice  of  his 
fundamental  doctrine.1 

The  principal  adversaries  of  Theism  at  the  present 
day  are  Materialism  and  Agnosticism.  Materialism  is 
the  doctrine  that  mind  has  no  existence  except  as  a 
function  of  the  body:,  it  is  a  product  of  organization. 

1  See,  on  this  topic,  Flint,  Antitheistic  Theories,  pp.  185, 18G. 


80  THE  GROUNDS  OF  TREISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

In  its  crass  form,  Materialism  affirms  that  the  brain 
secretes  thought  as  the  liver  secretes  bile.  This  ex¬ 
ploded.  view  involves  the  notion  that  thought  is  a 
material  substance  somehow  contained  in  the  brain. 
In  its  more  refined  statement,  Materialism  asserts  that 
thought,  feeling,  volition,  are  phenomena  of  the  nervous 
organism,  as  magnetism  is  the  property  of  the  loadstone. 
Thought  is  compared  to  a  flame,  which  first  burns 
faintly,  then  more  brightly,  then  flickers,  and  at  length 
goes  out,  as  the  material  source  of  combustion  is  con 
sumed  or  dissipated. 

Materialism  is  a  theory  which  was  brought  forward 
in  very  ancient  times.  It  is  not  open  to  the  reproach, 
nor  can  it  boast  of  the  attraction,  of  novelty.  And  it 
deserves  to  be  remarked,  that  the  data  on  which  its 
merit  as  a  theory  is  to  be  judged  remain  substantially 
unaltered.  It  is  a  serious  though  frequent  mistake  to 
think  that  modern  physiology,  in  its  microscopic  exam¬ 
ination  of  the  brain,  has  discovered  any  new  clew  to  the 
solution  of  the  problem  of  the  relation  of  the  brain  to 
the  mind.  The  evidences  of  the  close  connection  and 
interaction  of  mind  and  body,  or  of  mental  and  physi¬ 
cal  states,  are  not  more  numerous  or  more  plain  nov? 
than  they  have  always  been.  That  fatigue  dulls  the 
attention,  that  narcotics  stimulate  or  stupefy  the  powers 
of  thought  and  emotion,  that  fever  may  produce  de¬ 
lirium,  and  a  blow  on  the  head  may  suspend  conscious¬ 
ness,  are  facts  with  which  mankind  have  always  been 
familiar.  The  influence  of  the  body  on  the  mind  is 
in  countless  ways  manifest.  On  the  contrary,  that  the 
physical  organism  is  affected  by  mental  states  is  an 
equally  common  experience.  The  feeling  of  guilt  sends 
the  blood  to  the  cheek  ;  fear  makes  the  knees  quake ; 
joy  and  love  brighten  the  eye ;  the  will  curbs  and  con- 


THE  PRINCIPAL  ANTI-THEISTIC  THEORIES. 


81 


fcrols  the  bodily  organs,  or  puts  them  in  motion  in  obedi¬ 
ence  to  its  behest. 

Not  only  are  the  facts  on  either  side  familiar  to  every¬ 
body,  but  no  nearer  approach  has  been  made  towards 
bridging  the  gulf  between  physical  states — in  particu¬ 
lar,  molecular  movements  of  the  brain  —  and  conscious* 
ness.  Says  Professor  Tyndall,  “  The  passage  from  the 
physics  of  the  brain  to  the  corresponding  facts  of  con¬ 
sciousness  is  unthinkable.  Granted  that  a  definite 
thought  and  a  definite  molecular  action  in  the  brain 
occur  simultaneously,  we  do  not  possess  the  intellectual 
organ,  nor  apparently  any  rudiment  of  the  organ,  which 
would  enable  us  to  pass  by  a  process  of  reasoning 
from  the  one  to  the  other.  They  appear  together,  but 
we  do  not  know  why.  Were  our  minds  and  senses  so 
expanded,  strengthened,  and  illuminated  as  to  enable  us 
to  see  and  feel  the  very  molecules  of  the  brain;  were  we 
capable  of  following  their  motions,  all  their  groupings, 
all  their  electric  discharges,  if  such  there  be  ;  and  were 
we  intimately  acquainted  with  the  corresponding  states 
of  thought  and  feeling,  —  we  should  be  as  far  as  ever 
from  the  solution  of  the  problem,  How  are  these  physi¬ 
cal  states  connected  with  the  facts  of  consciousness?  ”  1 
There  is  a  class  of  phenomena  which  no  physical  observa¬ 
tion  is  capable  of  revealing.  If  the  brain  of  Sophocles, 
when  he  was  composing  the  Antigone,  had  been  laid 
bare,  and  the  observer  had  possessed  an  organ  of  vision 
capable  of  discerning  every  movement  within  it,  he 
would  have  perceived  not  the  faintest  trace  of  the 
thoughts  which  enter  into  that  poem,  —  or  of  the  senti¬ 
ments  that  inspired  the  author.  One  might  as  well  cut 
open  a  bean-stalk,  or  search  a  handful  of  sand,  in  the 
hope  of  finding  thought  and  emotion. 

1  Fragments  of  Science,  p.  121. 


82  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


It  is  easy  to  prove,  and  it  has  been  proved,  that 
Materialism  regarded  as  a  theory  is  seif-destructive. 
If  opinion  is  merely  a  product  of  the  molecular  motion 
of  nervous  substance,  on  what  ground  is  one  opinion 
preferred  to  another  ?  Is  not  one  shuffle  of  atoms  as 
normal  as  another?  if  not,  by  what  criterion  is  one  to 
he  approved,  and  the  other  rejected?  How  can  either 
be  said  to  be  true  or  false,  when  both  are  equally  neces- 
3^tiry,  and  there  is  no  norm  to  serve  as  a  touchstone  of 
their  validity?  It  is  impossible  to  pronounce  one  kind 
of  brain  normal,  and  another  abnormal ;  since  the  rule 
on  which  the  distinction  is  to  be  made  is  itself  a  mere 
product  of  molecular  action,  and  therefore  possessed 
cf  no  independent,  objective  validity.  To  declare  a 
given  doctrine  true,  and  another  false,  when  each  has 
the  same  justification  as  the  rule  on  which  they  are 
judged,  is  a  suicidal  proceeding.  Like  absurdities  fol¬ 
low  the  assertion  by  a  materialist  that  one  thing  is 
morally  right,  and  another  morally  wrong,  one  thing 
noble,  and  another  base,  one  thing  wise,  and  another 
foolish.  There  is  no  objective  truth,  no  criterion  hav¬ 
ing  any  surer  warrant  than  the  objects  to  which  it  is 
applied.  There  is  no  judge  between  the  parties :  the 
judge  is  himself  a  party  on  trial.  Thus  Materialism 
lapses  into  scepticism.  Physiology  is  powerless  to 
explain  the  simple  fact  of  sense-perception,  or  the 
rudimental  feeling  at  the  basis  of  it.  A  wave  of 
tenuous  ether  strikes  on  the  retina  of  the  eye.  The 
impact  of  the  ether  induces  a  molecular  motion  in  the 
optic  nerve,  which,  in  turn,  produces  a  corresponding 
effect  in  the  sensorium  lodged  in  the  skull.  On  this 
condition  there  ensues  a  feeling ;  but  this  feeling,  a 
moment’s  reflection  will  shov ,  is  something  totally 
dissimilar  to  the  wave-motions  which  preceded  and  pro- 


THE  PRINCIPAL  ANTI-THEISTIC  THEORIES.  85 

voked  it.  But,  further,  in  the  act  of  perception  the 
mind  attends  to  the  sensation,  and  compares  one  sensa¬ 
tion  with  another.  This  discrimination  is  a  mental  act 
on  which  Materialism  sheds  not  the  faintest  ray  of  light. 
The  facts  of  memory,  of  conception  and  reasoning,  the 
phenomena  of  conscience,  the  operations  of  the  will,  — 
of  these  the  materialistic  theory  can  give  no  reasonable 
or  intelligible  account.  The  materialist  is  obliged  to 
deny  moral  freedom.  Voluntary  action  he  holds  to 
be  necessitated  action.  The  consciousness  of  liberty 
with  the  corresponding  feelings  of  self-approbation  or 
guilt  are  stigmatized  as  delusive.  No  man  could  have 
chosen  or  acted  otherwise  than  in  fact  he  did  choose 
or  act,  any  more  than  he  could  have  added  a  cubit 
to  his  stature.  Of  the  origin  and  persistency  of  these 
ideas  and  convictions  of  the  soul,  Materialism  hope¬ 
lessly  fails  to  give  any  rational  account. 

Materialism,  as  it  is  usually  held  at  present,  starts 
with  the  fact  of  the  simultaneity  of  thoughts  and  mo¬ 
lecular  changes.  The  task  which  it  has  to  fulfil  is  that 
of  showing  how  the  former  are  produced  by  the  latter. 
How  do  brain-movements  produce  thought-movements  ? 
If  consciousness  enters  as  an  effect  into  the  chain  of 
molecular  motion,  then,  by  the  accepted  law  of  con¬ 
servation  and  correlation,  consciousness,  in  turn,  is  a 
cause  re-acting  upon  the  brain.  But  this  conclusion  is 
directly  contrary  to  the  materialistic  theory,  and  is  ac¬ 
cordingly  rejected.  It  will  not  do  to  allow  that  force  is 
convertible  into  consciousness.  There  must  be  no  break 
in  the  physical  chain.  Consciousness  is  excluded  from 
being  a  link  in  this  chain.  Consciousness  can  subtract 
no  force  from  matter.  It  will  not  do  to  answer  that 
consciousness  is  the  attendant  of  the  motions  of  matter. 
What  causes  it  to  attend  ?  What  is  the  ground  of  the 


84  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

parallelism  which  exists  between  the  series  of  mental 
and  the  series  of  material  manifestations?  Is  it  from 
the  nature  of  matter  that  both  alike  arise  ?  Then,  how 
can  thought  be  denied  to  be  a  link  in  the  physical 
series  ?  If  it  be  some  form  of  being  neither  material 
nor  mental,  the  same  consequence  follows,  and  all  the 
additional  difficulties  are  incurred  which  belong  to 
the  monistic  doctrine  of  Spinoza. 

Such  are  the  perplexities  which  ensue  upon  the 
attempt  to  hold  that  man  is  a  conscious  automaton. 
They  are  not  avoided  by  imagining  matter  to  be  en¬ 
dowed  with  mystical  and  marvellous  capacities,  which 
would  make  it  different  from  itself,  and  endue  it  with 
a  heterogeneous  nature.  Secret  potencies,  after  the 
manner  of  the  hylozoist  Pantheism  of  the  ancients,  are 
attributed  to  the  primeval  atoms.  44  Mind-stuff,  ”  or  an 
occult  mentality,  is  imagined  to  reside  in  the  clod,  or, 
to  make  the  idea  more  attractive,  in  the  effulgent  sun. 
The  Platonic  philosophy  is  said  to  lurk  potentially  in 
its  beams.  This  is  fancy,  not  science.  The  reality  of 
a  mental  subject,  in  which  the  modes  of  consciousness 
have  their  unity,  is  implied  in  the  language  of  material¬ 
ists,  even  when  they  are  advocating  their  theory.  The 
presence  of  a  personal  agent  by  whom  thoughts  and 
things  are  compared,  their  order  of  succession  observed, 
and  their  origin  investigated,  is  constantly  assumed. 

The  proposition  that  the  ideas  of  cause  and  effect, 
substance,  self,  etc.,  which  are  commonly  held  to  be 
of  subjective  origin,  are  the  product  of  sensations,  and 
derived  from  experience,  is  disproved  by  the  fact  that 
experience  is  impossible  without  them.  In  establishing 
the  a  priori  character  of  the  intuitions,  Kant  accom¬ 
plished  a  work  which  forever  excludes  materialism 
from  being  the  creed  of  any  but  confused  and  illogical 
reason  ers. 


THE  PRINCIPAL  ANTI-THEISTIC  THEORIES. 


85 


Agnosticism,  the  system  of  Herbert  Spencer,  in¬ 
cludes  disbelief  in  the  personality  of  God,  but  also 
equally  in  the  personality  of  man.  There  is,  of  course, 
the  verbal  admission  of  a  subject  and  object  of  knowl¬ 
edge.  This  distinction,  it  is  even  said,  is  “  the  con¬ 
sciousness  of  a  difference  transcending  all  other  differ¬ 
ences.”  1  But  subject  and  object,  knower  and  thing 
known,  are  pronounced  to  be  purely  phenomenal.  The 
reality  behind  them  is  said  to  be  utterly  incognizable. 
Nothing  is  known  of  it  but  its  bare  existence.  So,  too, 
we  are  utterly  in  the  dark  as  to  the  relations  subsisting 
among  things  as  distinguished  from  their  transfigured 
manifestations  in  consciousness;  for  these  manifesta¬ 
tions  reveal  nothing  save  the  bare  existence  of  objects, 
together  with  relations  between  them  which  are  per¬ 
fectly  inscrutable.  The  phenomena  are  symbols,  but 
they  are  symbols  only  in  the  algebraic  sense.  They  are 
not  pictures,  they  are  not  representations  of  the  objects 
that  produce  them.  They  are  effects,  in  consciousness, 
of  unknown  agencies.  The  order  in  which  the  effects 
occur  suggests,  we  are  told,  a  corresponding  order  in 
these  agencies.  But  what  is  “  order,”  what  is  regularity 
of  succession,  when  predicated  of  noumena,  but  words 
void  of  meaning  ?  “  What  we  are  conscious  of  as  prop¬ 

erties  of  matter,  even  down  to  its  weight  and  resistance, 
are  but  subjective  affections  produced  by  objective 
agencies  which  are  unknown  and  unknowable.”  2  These 
effects  are  generically  classified  as  matter,  motion,  and 
force.  These  terms  express  certain  “  likenesses  of 
kind,”  the  most  general  likenesses,  in  the  subjective 
affections  thus  produced.  There  are  certain  likenesses 
of  connection  in  these  effects,  which  we  class  as  laws. 
Matter  and  motion,  space  and  time,  are  reducible  to 

1  Principles  of  Psychology,  2d  ed.,  i.  157.  2  Ibid.,  i.  493. 


86  THE  GROUNDS  OF  TIIEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


force ;  but  “  force  ”  only  designates  the  subjective 
affection  in  its  ultimate  or  most  general  expression. 
Of  force  as  an  objective  reality  we  know  nothing.  It 
follows  that  the  same  is  true  of  cause,  and  of  every 
other  term  descriptive  of  power.  There  is  power,  there 
is  cause,  apart  from  our  feeling ;  but  as  to  what  they 
are  we  are  entirely  in  the  dark.  “  The  interpretation 
of  all  phenomena  in  terms  of  matter,  motion,  and  force, 
is  nothing  more  than  the  reduction  of  our  complex 
symbols  of  thought  to  the  simplest  symbols  ;  and  when 
the  equation  is  brought  to  its  lowest  terms,  the  symbols 
remain  symbols  still.” 1  Further :  the  world  of  conscious¬ 
ness,  and  the  world  of  things  as  apprehended  in  con¬ 
sciousness,  are  symbols  of  a  Reality  to  which  both  in 
common  are  to  be  attributed.  “  A  Power  of  which  the 
nature  remains  forever  inconceivable,  and  to  which  no 
limits  in  Time  or  Space  can  be  imagined,  works  in  us 
certain  effects.” 2  Thus  all  our  science  consists  in  a 
classification  of  states  of  consciousness  which  are 
the  product  of  the  inscrutable  Cause.  It  is  a  “  trans¬ 
figured  Realism.”  Reality,  in  any  other  sense,  is  a 
terra  incognita. 

With  these  views  is  associated  Mr.  Spencer’s  doctrine 
of  evolution.  Evolution  is  the  method  of  action  of  the 
inscrutable  force.  Homogeneous  matter  diversifies  or 
differentiates  itself.  The  development  goes  on  until 
nervous  organism  arises,  and  reaches  a  certain  stage  of 
complexity,  when  sentience  appears,  and  at  length  per¬ 
sonal  consciousness,  with  all  its  complexity  of  contents. 
But  consciousness  is  a  growth.  All  our  mental  life  is 
woven  out  of  sensations.  Intuitions  are  the  product 
of  experience,  —  not  of  the  individual  merely,  but  of 
the  race,  since  the  law  of  heredity  transmits  the  acqui- 

1  First  Principles,  2cl  ed.,  p.  558.  2  Ibid.,  p.  557. 


THE  PRINCIPAL  ANTI-THEISTIC  THEORIES. 


87 


sitions  of  the  ancester  to  his  progeny.  So  mind  is  built 
up  from  rudimental  sensations.  The  lowest  form  of 
life  issues  at  last  in  the  intellect  of  a  Bacon  or  a  New¬ 
ton.  And  life,  it  seems  to  be  held,  is  evolved  from 
unorganized  matter. 

What,  according  to  Spencer’s  own  principles,  are 
“matter,”  and  “nervous  organism,”  and  “life,”  inde¬ 
pendently  of  consciousness,  and  when  there  is  no  con¬ 
sciousness  to  apprehend  them?  How  can  Nature  be 
used  to  beget  consciousness,  and  consciousness  be  used, 
in  turn,  to  beget  Nature  ?  How  are  reason,  imagination, 
memory,  conscience,  and  the  entire  stock  of  mental 
experiences  of  which  a  Leibnitz  or  Dante  is  capable, 
evolved  from  nerve-substance  ?  These  and  like  ques¬ 
tions  we  waive,  and  direct  our  attention  to  the  doctrine 
of  “  the  Unknowable.” 

What  is  “  the  Absolute  ”  and  “  the  Infinite  ”  which 
are  declared  to  be  out  of  the  reach  of  knowledge,  and 
which,  the  moment  the  knowing  faculty  attempts  to 
deal  with  them,  lead  to  manifold  contradictions?  They 
are  mere  abstractions.  They  have  no  other  than  a 
merely  verbal  existence.  They  are  reached  by  think¬ 
ing  away  all  limits,  all  conditions,  all  specific  qualities : 
in  short,  “  the  Absolute  ”  as  thus  described  is  nothing. 
If  this  fictitious  absolute  be  treated  as  real,  absurdities 
follow.  The  antinomies  which  Kant  and  Hamilton 
derive  from  a  quantitative  conception  of  the  Infinite  are 
the  result.1 

1  Tlie  antinomies  of  Kant,  and  of  Hamilton  and  Mansel,  are  capable 
of  being  resolved.  They  involve  fallacies.  A  quantitative  idea  of  the 
Infinite  is  frequently  at  the  basis  of  the  assertion  that  contradictions 
belong  to  the  conception  of  it.  The  Infinite  is  treated  as  if  it  were 
a  complete  whole,  i.e.,  as  if  it  were  a  finite.  Hamilton’s  doctrine  of 
nescience  depends  partly  on  the  idea  of  “  the  Infinite  ”  and  “  the  Abso¬ 
lute  ”  as  mere  abstractions,  and  unrelated,  and  partly  on  a  restricted  defi 
nition  of  knowledge.  We  cannot  know  space,  he  tells  us,  as  absolutely 


88  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


But  this  is  not  the  Absolute  which  Spencer  actually 
places  at  the  foundation  of  his  system.  The  Absolute 
which  he  puts  to  this  use  is  antithetical  to  relative 
being:  it  is  correlated  to  the  relative.  Moreover,  the 
Absolute  comes  within  the  pale  of  consciousness,  be  the 
cognition  of  it  however  vague.  Only  so  far  as  we  are 
conscious  of  it,  have  we  any  evidence  of  its  reality. 
Moreover,  it  is  the  cause  of  the  relative.  It  is  to  the 
agency  of  the  Absolute  that  all  states  of  consciousness 
are  referable.  “  It  works  in  us ,”  says  Spencer,  “  certain 
effects.”  Plainly,  the  Absolute,  the  real  Absolute,  is 
related.  Only  as  related  in  the  ways  just  stated  is  its 
existence  known.  Mr.  Spencer  says  himself  that  the 
mind  must  in  “  some  dim  mode  of  consciousness  posit 
a  non-relative,  and,  in  some  similarly  dim  mode  of  con¬ 
sciousness,  a  relation  between  it  and  the  relative .”  1 

Plainly,  we  know  not  only  that  the  Absolute  is,  but 
also,  to  the  same  extent,  what  it  is.  But  let  us  look 
more  narrowly  at  the  function  assigned  to  the  Abso¬ 
lute,  and  the  mode  in  which  we  ascertain  it.  Here  Mr. 
Spencer  brings  in  the  principle  of  cause.  The  Abso¬ 
lute  is  the  cause  of  both  subject  and  object.  And  the 
idea  of  cause  we  derive,  according  to  his  own  teaching, 
from  the  changes  of  consciousness  which  imply  causa¬ 
tion.  “  The  force,”  he  says,  “  by  which  we  ourselves 
produce  changes,  and  which  serves  to  symbolize  the 

bounded,  or  as  infinitely  unbounded.  The  first,  to  be  sure,  is  impossi¬ 
ble,  because  it  is  contrary  to  the  known  reality.  The  second  is  not 
Impossible.  True,  we  cannot  imagine  space  as  complete ;  we  cannot 
Imagine  all  space,  space  as  a  whole ,  because  this,  too,  is  contrary  to  the 
reality.  But  we  know  space  as  infinite  ;  that  is,  we  know  space,  and 
know  not  only  that  we  cannot  limit  it,  but  positively  that  there  is  no 
limit  to  it.  We  know  what  power  is.  We  do  not  lose  our  notion  of 
power  when  we  predicate  infinitude  of  it.  It  is  power  still,  but  power 
i  ncapable  of  limit. 

1  Essays,  iii.  293  seq. 


THE  PRINCIPAL  ANTI-THEISTIC  THEORIES. 


89 


cause  of  changes  in  general,  is  the  final  disclosure  of 
analysis.” 1  In  other  words,  the  experience  of  conscious 
causal  agency  in  ourselves  gives  us  the  idea  of  “force.” 
This  is  “the  original  datum  of  consciousness.”  This  is 
all  we  know  of  force.  Only  as  we  are  ourselves  con¬ 
scious  of  power,  do  we  know  any  thing  of  power  in  the 
universe.  Now,  Mr.  Spencer  chooses  to  name  the  ulti¬ 
mate  reality  “  Force  ”  —  “  the  Absolute  Force.”  He  de¬ 
clares  it  to  be  inscrutable;  since  the  force  which  we  are 
immediately  conscious  of  is  not  persistent,  is  a  relative. 
Yet  he  says  that  he  means  by  it  “the  persistence  of 
some  cause  which  transcends  our  knowledge  and  concep¬ 
tion.”  Take  away  cause  from  the  Absolute,  and  nothing 
is  left ;  and  the  only  cause  of  which  we  have  any  idea 
is  our  own  conscious  activity.  If  Mr.  Spencer  would 
make  the  causal  idea,  as  thus  derived,  the  symbol  for 
the  interpretation  of  “changes  in  general,”  he  would 
be  a  Theist.  By  deftly  resolving  cause  into  the  physical 
idea  of  “force,”  he  gives  to  his  system  a  Pantheistic 
character.  It  is  only  by  converting  the  a  priori  idea  of 
cause,  as  given  in  consciousness,  into  a  “  force  ”  which 
we  “  cannot  form  any  idea  of,”  and  which  he  has  no 
warrant  for  assuming,  that  he  avoids  Theism.2 

Let  us  observe  the  consequences  of  holding  the  Ag¬ 
nostic  rigidly  to  his  own  principles. 

According  to  Mr.  Spencer’s  numerous  and  explicit 
avowals,  all  of  our  conceptions  and  language  respecting 
nature  are  vitiated  by  the  same  anthropomorphism 
which  he  finds  in  the  ascribing  of  personality  to  God. 
All  science  is  made  out  to  be  a  mental  picture  to  which 
there  is  no  likeness  in  realities  outside  of  conscious- 

1  First  Principles,  p.  169. 

2  There  are  clear  remarks  of  Mr.  A.  M.  Fairbairn  on  this  point,  Con* 
temporary  Review,  vol.  xl.  p.  211. 


90  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHR  STIAN  BELIEF. 


ness.  To  speak  of  matter  as  impenetrable,  to  make 
statements  respecting  an  imponderable  ether,  molecular 
movements,  atoms,  even  respecting  space,  time,  motion, 
cause,  force,  is  to  talk  in  figures,  without  the  least  knowl¬ 
edge  of  the  realities  denoted  by  them.  It  is  not  a  case 
where  a  symbol  is  adopted  to  signify  known  reality. 
We  cannot  compare  the  reality  with  the  symbol  or 
notion,  because  of  the  reality  we  have  not  the  faintest 
knowledge.  When  we  speak,  for  example,  of  the  vibra¬ 
tions  of  the  air,  we  have  not  the  least  knowledge  either 
of  what  the  air  is,  or  of  what  vibrations  are.  We  are 
merely  giving  name  to  an  unknown  cause  of  mental 
states;  but  even  of  cause  itself,  predicated  of  the  object 
in  itself,  and  of  what  is  meant  by  its  agency  in  giving 
rise  to  effects  in  us,  we  are  as  ignorant  as  a  blind  man 
of  colors.  Mr.  Spencer  says  that  matter  is  probably 
composed  of  ultimate,  homogeneous  units.1  He  appears, 
in  various  places,  to  think  well  of  the  atomic  theory 
of  matter.  But  if  he  is  speaking  of  matter  as  it  is, 
independently  of  our  sensations,  he  forgets,  when  he 
talks  thus,  the  fundamental  doctrine  of  his  philosophy. 
He  undertakes  to  tell  us  about  realities,  when  he  can¬ 
not  consistently  speak  of  aught  but  their  algebraic  sym¬ 
bols,  or  the  phenomena  of  consciousness.  The  atomic 
theory  of  matter  carries  us  as  far  into  the  unknown 
realm  of  ontology  as  the  doctrine  of  the  personality  of 
the  Absolute,  or  any  other  proposition  embraced  in 
Christian  Theism. 

It  is  impossible  for  the  Agnostic  to  limit  his  knowl¬ 
edge  to  experience,  and  to  reject  as  unverified  the  im- 
p'.ications  of  experience,  without  abandoning  nearly  all 
that  he  holds  true.  If  he  sticks  to  his  principle,  his 
creed  will  be  a  short  one.  Consciousness  is  confined  to 

1  Principles  of  Psychology,  p.  157. 


THE  PRINCIPAL  ANTI-THEISTIC  THEORIES. 


91 


the  present  moment.  I  am  conscious  of  remembering 
an  experience  in  the  past.  This  consciousness  as  a 
present  fact  I  .  cannot  deny  without  a  contradiction. 
But  how  do  I  know  that  the  object  of  the  recollec¬ 
tion  —  be  it  a  thought,  or  feeling,  or  experience  of  any 
sort  —  ever  had  a  reality  ?  How  do  I  know  any  thing 
past,  or  that  there  is  a  past?  Now,  memory  is  neces» 
sary  to  the  comparison  of  sensations,  to  reasoning,  tc 
our  whole  mental  life.  Yet  to  believe  in  memory  is  to 
transcend  experience.  I  have  certain  sensations  which 
I  attribute  collectively  to  a  cause  named  my  “  body.” 
Like  sensations  lead  me  to  recognize  the  existence  of 
other  bodies  like  my  own.  But  how  do  I  know  that 
there  is  consciousness  within  these  bodies?  How  do  I 
know  that  my  fellow-men  whom  I  see  about  me  have 
minds  like  my  own  ?  The  senses  cannot  perceive  the 
intelligence  of  the  friends  about  me.  I  infer  that  they 
are  intelligent,  but  in  this  inference  I  transcend  expe¬ 
rience.  Experience  reduced  to  its  exact  terms,  accord¬ 
ing  to  the  methods  of  Agnosticism,  is  confined  to  the 
present  feeling,  —  the  feeling  of  the  transient  moment. 
When  the  Agnostic  goes  beyond  this,  when  he  infers 
that  what  is  remembered  was  once  presented  in  con¬ 
sciousness,  that  his  fellow-men  are  thinking  beings,  and 
not  mindless  puppets,  that  any  intelligent  beings  exist 
outside  of  himself,  he  transcends  experience.  If  he 
were  to  predicate  intelligence  of  God,  he  would  bo 
guilty  of  no  graver  assumption  than  when  he  ascribes 
inteliigerce  to  the  fellow-men  whom  he  sees  moving 
about,  and  with  whom  he  is  conversing. 

The  Spencerian  identification  of  subject  and  object, 
mind  and  matter,  is  illusive  and  groundless.  They  ai  t 
declared  to  be  “the  subjective  and  objective  faces  ol 
the  same  thing.”  1  hey  are  said  to  be  “  the  opposite 


92  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


faces  ”  of  one  reality.  Sometimes  they  are  spoken  of 
as  its  u  inner  and  outei  side.”  On  the  one  side,  we  are 
told,  there  are  nerve-waves ;  on  the  other  there  are  feel¬ 
ings.  What  is  the  fact,  or  the  reality,  of  which  these 
two  are  “faces”  or  “sides”?  From  much  of  the  lan¬ 
guage  which  Mr.  Spencer  uses  —  it  might  be  said,  from 
the  general  drift  of  his  remarks  —  the  impression  would 
be  gained,  that  the  reality  is  material,  and  that  feeling 
is  the  mere  concomitant  or  effect.  But  this  theorem  he 
disavows.  He  even  says,  that,  as  between  idealism  and 
materialism,  the  former  is  to  be  preferred.1  More,  he 
tells  us,  can  be  alleged  for  it  than  for  the  opposite 
theory.  The  nerve-movement  is  phenomenal  not  less 
than  the  feeling.  The  two  are  co-ordinate.  The  fact 
or  the  reality  is  to  be  distinguished  from  both.  As  phe¬ 
nomena,  there  are  two.  There  are  two  facts,  and  these 
two  are  the  only  realities  accessible  to  us.  The  sup¬ 
posed  power,  or  thing  in  itself,  is  behind,  and  is  abso¬ 
lutely  hidden.  The  difference  between  the  ego  and  the 
non-ego  transcends  all  other  differences.”  A  unit  of 
motion  a  unit  of  feeling  have  nothing  in  common. 

“  Belief  in  the  reality  of  self,”  it  is  confessed  by  Mr. 
Spencer,  is  “  a  belief  which  no  hypothesis  enables  us  to 
escape.”2  It  is  impossible,  he  proceeds  to  argue,  that 
the  impressions  and  ideas  “  which  constitute  conscious¬ 
ness”  can  be  thought  to  be  the  only  existences:  this  is 
“  really  unthinkable.”  If  there  is  an  impression,  there 
is  “  something  impressed.”  The  sceptic  must  hold  that 
the  ideas  and  impressions  into  which  he  has  decomposed 
consciousness  are  his  ideas  and  impressions.  Moreover, 
if  he  has  an  impression  of  his  personal  existence,  why 
reject  this  impression  alone  as  unreal?  The  belief  in 
one’s  personal  existence,  Mr.  Spencer  assures  us,  is 

'  Principles  of  Psychology,  i.  159.  2  First  Prin  ciplos,  pp.  64, 65. 


THE  PI  ZNCIPAL  AN11-THEISTIC  THEORIES. 


93 


“  unavoidable  ;  ”  it  is  indorsed  by  “  the  assent  of  man¬ 
kind  at  large  ;  ”  it  is  indorsed,  too,  by  the  “  suicide  of 
the  sceptical  argument  against  it.”  Yet  the  surprising 
declaration  is  added,  that  “reason  rejects”  this  belief. 
Reason  rejects  a  belief  which  it  is  impossible  to  aban¬ 
don,  and  against  which  the  adverse  reasoning  of  the 
doubter  shatters  itself  in  pieces.  On  what  ground  is 
this  strange  conclusion  reached?  Why,  “the  cognition 
of  self,”  it  is  asserted,  is  negatived  by  the  laws  of 
thought.  The  condition  of  thought  is  the  antithesis  of 
subject  and  object.  Hence  the  mental  act  in  which 
self  is  known  implies  “  a  perceiving  subject  and  a  per¬ 
ceived  object.”  If  it  is  the  true  self  that  thinks,  what 
other  self  can  it  be  that  is  thought  of?  If  subject  and 
object  are  one  and  the  same,  thought  is  annihilated. 

If  the  two  factors  of  consciousness,  the  ego  and  the 
non-ego ,  are  irreducible,  the  reality  of  self  is  the  natural 
inference.  The  “unavoidable”  belief  that  self  is  a 
reality  is  still  further  confirmed  by  the  absolute  impos¬ 
sibility  of  thinking  without  attributing  the  act  to  self. 

But  let  us  look  at  the  psychological  difficulty  which 
moves  Mr.  Spencer  instantly  to  laj^  down  his  arms,  and 
surrender  an  “  unavoidable  ”  belief.  In  every  mental 
act  there  is  an  implicit  consciousness  of  self,  whether  the 
object  is  a  thing  external  or  a  mental  affection.  From 
this  cognition  of  self  there  is  no  escape.  Suppose,  now, 
that  self  is  the  direct  object.  To  know  is  to  distin¬ 
guish  an  object  from  other  things,  and  from  the  know¬ 
ing  subject.  When  self  is  the  object,  this  distinguishing 
activity  is  exerted  by  the  subject,  while  the  object  is 
self,  distinguished  alike  from  other  things  and  from  the 
distinguishing  subject.  The  subject  distinguishes,  the 
object  differs  in  being  distinguished  or  discerned.  Yet 
both  subject  and  object  notwithstanding  this  formal 


94  THE  GROUNLS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIE*. 


distinction,  are  known  in  consciousness  as  identical. 
If,  again,  self  as  the  subject  of  this  activity  is  made  the 
object,  then  it  is  to  one  form  of  activity,  distinguished 
in  thought  from  the  agent,  that  attention  is  directed, 
while  at  the  same  time  there  is  a  consciousness  that  the 
distinction  of  the  agent  from  the  power  or  function  is 
in  thought  merely,  not  in  reality.  That  self-conscious¬ 
ness  is  a  fact,  every  one  can  convince  himself  by  look¬ 
ing  within.  No  psychological  objection,  were  it  much 
more  solid  than  the  one  just  noticed,  could  avail  against 
an  experience  of  the  fact.  We  are  fortunately  not 
called  upon  by  logic  to  part  with  an  “unavoidable” 
belief.1 

To  explain  the  complex  operations  of  the  intellect 
as  due  to  a  combination  of  units  of  sensation  is  a  task 
sufficiently  arduous.  But,  when  it  comes  to  the  will 
and  the  moral  feelings,  the  difficulties  increase.  The 
illusive  idea  of  freedom,  as  was  explained  above,  is  sup¬ 
posed  by  Mr.  Spencer  to  spring  from  the  supposition 
that  “  the  ego  is  something  more  than  the  aggregate 
of  feelings  and  ideas,  actual  and  nascent,  which  then 
exists,”  —  exists  at  the  moment  of  action.  The  mistake 
is  made  of  thinking  that  the  ego  is  any  thing  but  “  the 
entire  group  of  psychical  states  which  constituted  the 
action  ”  supposed  to  be  free.2  Yet  the  same  writer 
elsewhere,  and  with  truth,  asserts  that  this  idea  of  the 
ego  is  “verbally  intelligible,  but  really  unthinkable.”  3 

Mr.  Spencer’s  system  has  been  correctly  described 
by  Mansel  as  a  union  of  the  Positivist  doctrine,  that  we 
know  only  the  relations  of  phenomena,  with  the  Pan¬ 
theist  assumption  of  the  name  of  God  to  denote  the 

1  This  objection  of  Spencer  is  a  part  of  Herbart’s  system.  It  is  con¬ 
futed  by  Ulrici,  Gott  der  Mensch,  pp.  321, 322. 

2  Principles  of  Psychology,  i.  COO,  501.  8  First  Principles,  p.  64, 


THE  PRINCIPAL  ANTI-THEISTIC  THEORIES. 


95 


substance  or  power  which  lies  beyond  phenomena/ 
The  doctrine,  which  is  so  essential  in  the  S3'stem,  that 
mental  phenomena  emerge  from  nervous  organism  when 
it  reaches  a  certain  point  of  development,  is  material¬ 
istic.  Motion,  heat,  light,  chemical  affinity,  Mr.  Spen¬ 
cer  holds,  are  transformable  into  sensation,  emotion, 
thought,  fie  holds  that  no  idea  or  feeling  arises  save 
as  a  result  of  some  physical  force  expended  in  produ¬ 
cing  it.  “  How  this  metamorphosis  takes  place ;  how 
a  force  existing  as  motion,  heat,  or  light,  can  become  a 
mode  of  consciousness ;  how  it  is  possible  for  the  forces 
liberated  by  chemical  changes  in  the  brain  to  give  rise 
to  emotion,  — these  are  mysteries  which  it  is  impossible 
to  fathom.”  2  They  are  mysteries  which  ought  to  shake 
the  writer’s  faith  in  the  assumed  fact  which  creates 
them.  If  forces  liberated  by  chemical  action  produce 
thought,  then  thought,  by  the  law  of  conservation, 
must  exert  the  force  thus  absorbed  by  it.  This  maues 
thought  a  link  in  the  chain  of  causes,  giving  to  it  ar 
agency  which  the  theory  denies  it  to  possess.  If  chem 
ical  action  does  not  “  give  rise  to  ”  thought,  by  produ¬ 
cing  it,  then  it  can  only  be  an  occasional  cause,  and  the 
efficient  cause  of  thought  is  left  untold.  This  evolu 
tion  of  mind  from  matter  as  the  prius,  even  though 
matter  be  defined  as  a  mode  of  “the  Unknowable,”  and 
the  subjection  of  mental  phenomena  to  material  laws, 
stamp  the  system  as  essentially  materialistic.  The  argu¬ 
ments  which  confute  materialism  are  applicable  to  it. 

Underneath  modern  discussions  on  the  grounds  of 
religious  belief  is  the  fundamental  question  as  to  the 
reality  of  human  knowledge.  The  doctrine  of  the  rela¬ 
tivity  of  knowledge  has  been  made  one  of  the  chief 

1  The  Philosophy  of  the  Conditioned,  p.  40. 

2  First  Principles,  2d  ed.,  p.  217. 


96  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 


props  of  scepticism  and  atheism.  If  the  proposition 
that  knowledge  is  relative,  simply  means  that  we  can 
know  only  through  the  organ  of  knowledge,  it  is  a  tru¬ 
ism.  We  can  know  nothing  of  the  universe  as  a  whole, 
or  of  any  thing  in  it,  beyond  what  the  knowing  agent 
by  its  constitution  is  capable  of  discerning.  The  im¬ 
portant  question  is,  whether  things  are  known  as  they 
are,  or  whether  they  undergo  a  metamorphosis,  con¬ 
verting  them  into  things  unlike  themselves,  by  being 
brought  into  contact  with  the  perceiving  and  thinking 
subject.  It  is  tantamount  to  the  question  whether  our 
mental  constitution  is,  or  is  not,  an  instrument  for 
perceiving  truth.  The  idealist  would  explain  all  the 
objects  of  knowledge  as  modifications  of  the  thinking 
subject.  Knowledge  is  thus  made  an  inward  process, 
having  no  real  counterpart  in  a  world  without.  Nothing 
is  known,  nothing  exists,  beyond  this  internal  process. 
Others,  who  stop  short  of  idealism,  attribute  to  the 
mind  such  a  transforming  work  upon  the  objects  fur¬ 
nished  it,  or  acting  upon  it  from  without,  that  their 
nature  is  veiled  from  discovery.  The  mirror  of  con¬ 
sciousness  is  so  made  that  things  reflected  in  it  may, 
for  aught  we  can  say,  lose  all  resemblance  to  things  in 
themselves.  That  which  is  true  of  sense-perception,  at 
least  as  regards  the  secondary  qualities,  color,  flavor, 
etc.,  — -  which  are  proximately  affections  of  man’s  physi¬ 
cal  organism,  —  is  assumed  to  be  true  of  all  things  and 
of  their  relations.  This  is  a  denial  of  the  reality  of 
knowledge  in  the  sense  in  which  the  terms  are  taken  by 
the  common  sense  of  mankind.  The  doctrine  was  pro 
pounded  in  the  maxim  of  the  sophist  Protagoras,  that 
“man  is  the  measure  of  all  things.” 

Locke  made  sensation  the  ultimate  source  of  knowl¬ 
edge.  Berkeley  withstood  materialism  by  making  sen 


THE  PRINCIPAL  ANTI  THEIST1C  THEORIES 


97 


sations  to  be  affections  of  the  spirit,  ideas  impressed  by 
the  will  of  God,  acting  by  uniform  rule.  Hume,  from 
the  premises  of  Locke,  resolved  our  knowledge  into  sen¬ 
sations,  which  combine  in  certain  orders  of  sequence, 
through  custom,  of  which  no  explanation  is  to  be  given. 
Customary  association  gives  rise  to  the  delusive  notion 
of  necessary  ideas,  —  such  as  cause  and  effect,  substance, 
power,  the  ego,  etc.  Reid,  through  the  doctrine  of 
common  sense,  rescued  rational  intuitions  and  human 
knowledge,  which  is  built  on  them,  from  the  gulf  of 
scepticism.  There  is  another  source  of  knowledge,  a 
subjective  source,  possessed  of  a  self-verifying  authority. 
Kant  performed  a  like  service  by  demonstrating  that 
space  and  time,  and  the  ideas  of  cause,  substance,  etc., 
the  concepts  or  categories  of  the  understanding,  are 
not  the  product  of  sense-perception.  They  are  neces¬ 
sary  and  universal ;  not  the  product,  but  the  condition,  of 
sense-perception.  They  are  presupposed  in  our  percep¬ 
tions  and  judgments.  Moreover,  Kant  showed  that  there 
are  ideas  of  reason.  The  mind  is  impelled  to  unify  the 
concepts  of  the  understanding  by  which  it  conceives, 
classifies,  and  connects  the  objects  of  knowledge.  These 
ideas  are  of  the  world  as  a  totality,  embracing  all  phe¬ 
nomena,  the  ego  or  personal  subject,  and  God,  the  un¬ 
conditioned  ground  of  all  possible  existences. 

But  Kant  founded  a  scepticism  of  a  peculiar  sort. 
Space,  time,  and  the  categories,  cause,  substance,  and 
the  like,  he  made  to  be  purely  subjective,  characteris¬ 
tics  of  the  thinker,  and  not  of  the  thing.  They  reveal 
to  us,  not  things  in  themselves,  but  rather  the  hidden 
mechanism  of  thought.  Of  the  thing  itself,  the  object 
of  perception,  we  only  know  its  existence.  Even  this 
we  cannot  affirm  of  the  ego ,  which  is  not  presented 
in  sense-perception.  The  same  exclusively  subjective 


98  TIIE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


validity  belongs  to  tlie  other  ideas  of  reason.  They 
signify  a  tentative  effort  which  is  never  complete.  They 
designate  a  nisus  which  is  never  realized.  Since  the 
concepts  of  the  understanding  are  rules  for  forming  and 
ordering  the  materials  furnished  in  sense-perception, 
they  cannot  be  applied  to  any  thing  super-sensible.  The 
attempt  to  do  so  lands  us  in  logical  contradictions,  or 
antinomies,  which  is  an  additional  proof  that  we  are 
guilty  of  an  illegitimate  procedure. 

From  the  consequences  of  this  organized  scepticism, 
the  natural  as  well  as  actual  outcome  of  which  was  the 
systems  of  Pantheistic  idealism,  Kant  delivered  himself 
by  his  doctrine  of  the  Practical  Reason.  He  called 
attention  to  another  department  of  our  nature.  We  are 
conscious  of  a  moral  law,  an  imperative  mandate,  dis¬ 
tinguished  from  the  desires,  and  elevated  above  them. 
This  implies,  and  compels  us  to  acknowledge,  the  free¬ 
dom  of  the  will,  and  our  own  personality  which  is  in¬ 
volved  in  it.  Knowing  that  we  are  made  for  morality, 
and  also  for  happiness,  or  that  these  are  the  ends  towards 
which  the  constitution  of  our  nature  points,  we  must 
assume  that  there  is  a  God  by  whose  government  these 
ends  are  made  to  meet,  and  are  reconciled  in  a  future 
life.  God,  free-will,  and  immortality  are  thus  verified 
to  us  on  practical  grounds.  Religion  is  the  recognition 
of  the  moral  law  as  a  divine  command.  Religion  and 
ethics  are  thus  identified.  Love,  the  contents  of  the 
law,  is  ignored,  or  retreats  into  the  background.  Rec¬ 
titude  in  its  abstract  quality,  or  as  an  imperative  man¬ 
date,  is  the  sum  of  virtue. 

The  doctrine  of  the  relativity  of  knowledge  is  presc  nt- 
ed  by  Sir  William  Hamilton  in  a  form  somewhat  dif¬ 
ferent  from  the  Kantian  theory.  The  Infinite  and  the 
Absolute  —  existence  unconditionally  unlimited,  and 


1  HE  PRINCIPAL  ANTI-TIIEISTIC  THEORIES. 


99 


sxistence  unconditionally  limited  —  are  neither  of  them 
conceivable.  For  example,  we  cannot  conceive  of  infi¬ 
nite  space,  or  of  space  so  small  that  it  cannot  be  divid¬ 
ed:  we  cannot  conceive  of  infinite  increase  or  infinite 
division.  Positive  thought  is  of  things  limited  or  con¬ 
ditioned.  The  object  is  limited  by  its  contrast  with 
other  things  and  by  its  relation  to  the  subject.  Only 
as  thus  limited  can  it  be  an  object  of  knowledge.  The 
object  in  sense-perception  is  a  phenomenon  of  the  non¬ 
ego  :  the  non-ego  is  a  reality,  but  is  not  known  as  it  is 
in  itself.  Thought  is  shut  up  between  two  inaccessible 
extremes.  But  although  each  is  inconceivable,  yet, 
since  they  are  contradictories,  one  or  the  other  must 
be  accepted.  For  example,  space  must  be  either  infi¬ 
nite,  or  bounded  by  ultimate  limits.  An  essential  point 
in  Hamilton’s  doctrine  is  the  distinction  between  con¬ 
ception  and  belief.  The  two  are  not  co-extensive. 
That  may  be  an  object  of  belief  which  is  not  a  concept. 
This  distinction  is  elucidated  by  Mansel,  who  says, 
“We  may  believe  that  a  thing  is,  without  being  able 
to  conceive  how  it  is.”  “  I  believe  in  an  infinite  God ; 
i.e.,  I  believe  that  God  is  infinite.  I  believe  that  the 
attributes  which  I  ascribe  to  God  exist  in  him  in  an 
infinite  degree.  Now,  to  believe  this  proposition,  I  must 
be  conscious  of  its  meaning ;  but  I  am  not  therefore 
conscious  of  the  infinite  God  as  an  object  of  concep¬ 
tion  ;  for  this  would  require,  further,  an  apprehension 
of  the  manner  in  which  these  infinite  attributes  co¬ 
exist  so  as  to  form  one  object.”1  But  in  this  case  do 
I  not  know  the  meaning  of  “infinite”?  Does  it  not 
signify  more  than  the  absence  of  imaginable  limit,  a 
mere  negation  of  power  in  me  ?  Does  it  not  includf 
the  positive  idea,  that  there  is  no  limit?  In  the  case 

1  The  Philosophy  of  the  Conditioned,  pp.  127,  129,  cf.  p.  18  seq. 


100  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


of  opposite  inconceivables,  extraneous  considerations, 
according  to  Hamilton,  determine  which  ought  to  be 
believed.  Both  necessity  and  freedom  are  inconceiva¬ 
ble,  since  one  involves  an  endless  series,  the  other  a 
new  commencement ;  but  moral  feeling  —  self-approba¬ 
tion,  remorse,  the  consciousness  of  obligation  —  oblige 
us  to  believe  in  freedom,  although  we  cannot  conceive 
of  it  as  possible.  The  fact  is  an  object  of  thought,  and 
so  far  intelligible,  but  not  the  quo  modo.  This  dilemma 
in  which  we  are  placed,  where  we  have  to  choose 
between  two  contradictory  inconceivables,  does  not 
imply  that  our  reason  is  false,  but  that  it  is  weak,  or 
limited  in  its  range.  When  we  attempt  to  conceive  of 
the  Infinite  and  the  Absolute,  we  wade  beyond  our 
depth.  They  are  terms  signifying,  not  thought,  but  the 
negation  of  thought.  Our  belief  in  the  existence  of 
God  and  in  his  perfection  rests  on  the  suggestions 
and  demands  of  our  moral  nature.  In  this  general 
view  Hamilton  was  in  accord  with  Kant.  Mr.  Mansel 
differed  from  Sir  William  Hamilton  in  holding  that  we 
have  an  intuition  of  the  ego  as  an  entity,  and  in  holding 
that  the  idea  of  cause  is  a  positive  notion,  and  not  a 
mere  inability  to  conceive  of  a  new  beginning,  or  of 
an  addition  to  the  sum  of  existence.  But  Mr.  Mansel 
applied  the  doctrine  of  relativity  to  our  knowledge  of 
God,  which  was  thus  made  to  be  only  anthropopathic, 
approximative,  symbolic ;  and  he  founded  our  belief  in 
God  ultimately  on  conscience  and  the  emotions. 

Under  the  auspices  of  James  Mill,  and  of  hi3  son 
John  Stuart  Mill,  the  philosophical  speculations  of 
Hume  were  revived.  Intuitions  are  affirmed  to  be  em¬ 
pirical  in  their  origin.  They  are  impressions,  which 
through  the  medium  of  sense-perception,  and  under 
the  laws  of  association,  stamp  themselves  upon  us  in 


HIE  TRINCIPAL  ANTI-TIIE  1ST IC  THEORIES  101 


early  childhood,  and  thus  wear  the  semblance  of  a  priori 
ideas.  But  this  is  only  a  semblance.  There  are,  possi¬ 
bly,  regions  in  the  universe  where  two  and  two  make 
five.  Causation  is  nothing  but  uniformity  of  sequence. 
The  Positivist  theory  of  J.  S.  Mill  led  him  to  the  con¬ 
clusion  that  matter  is  only  u  the  permanent  possibility 
of  sensations ;  ”  but  all  these  groups  of  possibilities 
which  constitute  matter  are  states  of  the  ego.  And 
Mill  was  only  prevented  from  concluding  that  the  mind 
is  nothing  but  a  bundle  of  sensations  by  the  intractable 
facts  of  memory.  On  his  view  of  mind  and  matter,  it 
is  impossible  to  see  how  a  man  can  know  the  existence 
of  anybody  but  himself.  He  says  that  he  does  “not 
believe  that  the  real  externality  to  us  of  any  thing 
except  other  minds  is  capable  of  proof.”  But  as  we 
become  acquainted  with  the  existence  of  other  minds, 
only  as  we  perceive  their  bodies,  and  since  this  percep¬ 
tion  must  be  held  to  be,  like  all  our  perceptions  of 
matter,  only  a  group  of  sensations,  we  have  no  proof 
that  such  bodies  exist. 

The  Agnostic  scheme  of  Herbert  Spencer  accords 
with  the  theory  of  Hume  and  Mill  in  tracing  intuitions 
to  an  empirical  source.  But  the  experience  which 
gives  them  being  is  not  that  of  the  individual,  but 
of  the  race.  Heredity  furnishes  the  clew  to  the  solu¬ 
tion  of  the  problem  of  their  emergence  in  the  conscious¬ 
ness  of  the  individual.  He  inherits  the  acquisitions  of 
remote  ancestors.  Then  the  notion  of  energy  is  super- 
added  to  the  Positivist  creed.  With  it  comes  the  pos¬ 
tulate  of  a  primal  Power,  of  which  we  are  said  to  have 
an  indefinite  consciousness,  or  “  the  Unknowable,” — 
the  Pantheistic  tenet  grafted  on  Positivism.  The 
doctrine  of  the  relativity  of  knowledge  is  taken  up 
from  Hamilton  and  Mansel  as  the  ground  of  nescience 


102  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


respecting  realities  as  distinct  from  phenomena,  and 
respecting  God.  The  facts  of  conscience  which  have 
furnished  to  Kant  and  Hamilton,  and  to  deep-thinking 
philosophers  generally  who  have  advocated  the  rela¬ 
tivity  of  knowledge,  a  foundation  for  belief  in  free-will 
and  for  faith  in  God,  meet  with  no  adequate  recogni¬ 
tion.  Little  account  is  made  of  moral  feeling,  and  its 
necessary  postulates  are  discarded  as  fictions. 

The  rescue  of  philosophy  from  its  aberrations  must 
begin  in  a  full  and  consistent  recognition  of  the  reality 
of  knowledge.  Intuitions  are  the  counterpart  of  reali¬ 
ties.  The  categories  are  objective  :  they  are  modes 
of  existence  as  well  as  modes  of  knowledge.  Distinct 
as  mind  and  nature  are,  there  is  such  an  affinity  in  the 
constitution  of  both,  and  such  an  adaptation  of  each 
to  each,  that  knowledge  is  not  a  bare  product  of 
subjective  activity,  but  a  reflex  of  reality.  Dependent 
existences  imply  independent  self-existent  Being.  The 
postulate  of  all  causal  connection  discerned  among 
finite  things  is  the  First  Cause.  From  the  will  we 
derive  our  notion  of  causation.  Among  dependent 
existences  the  will  is  the  only  fountain  of  power  of 
which  we  have  any  experience.  It  is  natural  to  be¬ 
lieve  that  the  First  Cause  is  a  Will.  The  First  Cause 
is  disclosed  as  personal  in  conscience,  to  which  our 
wills  are  subject.  The  law  as  an  imperative  impulse  to 
free  action  and  as  a  pre-appointed  end  implies  that  the 
First  Cause  is  Personal.  Order  and  design  in  the  world 
without  —  not  found  there  merely,  but  instinctively 
sought  there  —  corroborate  the  evidence  of  God,  oi 
whom  we  are  implicitly  conscious,  and  whose  holy 
authority  is  manifest  in  conscience. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  POSSIBILITY  AND  THE  FUNCTION  OF  MIRACLES 
WITH  A  REVIEW  OF  PROFESSOR  HUXLEY’S  COM¬ 
MENTS  ON  HUME. 

Christianity,  from  its  first  promulgation,  has  pro¬ 
fessed  to  have  a  supernatural  origin  and  sanction.  It 
has  claimed  to  have  God  for  its  author,  and  to  be  a 
revelation  of  him  and  by  him.  Nothing  in  history  is 
more  certain  than  that  the  apostles  denied,  and  with 
all  sincerity,  that  the  religion  which  they  were  pro¬ 
claiming  was  the  work  of  man,  or  owed  its  being 
exclusively  to  natural  causes,  unmixed  with  divine 
intervention.  That  the  Founder  of  Christianity  pre¬ 
ceded  them  in  propounding  this  claim  admits  of  no 
question. 

At  the  same  time,  Christianity  allows  and  asserts  a 
prior  revelation  of  God,  made  through  the  consciences 
of  men,  through  the  material  creation,  and  through  the 
moral  order  to  be  discerned  in  the  course  of  history. 
The  Scriptures  in  which  Christianity  is  authoritatively 
set  forth  do  not  undervalue  the  natural  revelation,  how¬ 
ever  misinterpreted,  and  practically  ineffectual,  they 
may  declare  it  to  be.  Its  comparative  failure  to  accom¬ 
plish  its  end  they  attribute  to  the  power  of  sin  to  dull 
the  perceptions  of  mankind.  Yet  the  discontent,  self 
accusation,  and  yearning  for  a  lost  birthright,  which 
constitute  a  preparation  to  receive  the  new  revelation, 

103 


104  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


are  pronounced  the  effect  of  the  earlier  revelation 
through  nature  and  conscience. 

Nor  is  there  any  thing  incongruous  between  the  two 
revelations.  If  a  miracle — for  example,  the  healing 
of  a  man  born  blind  —  brings  God  vividly  to  view,  it  is 
not  another  God  than  he  whose  power  is  exerted  in 
the  natural  growth  of  the  eye,  and  in  the  cure  of 
disease  when  it  takes  place  by  natural  means.  Christi¬ 
anity  partly  consists  of  a  republication  of  truth  respect¬ 
ing  God  and  respecting  human  duties,  —  truth  which 
the  light  of  nature  makes  known,  or  would  make 
known  if  reason  were  faithful  to  her  function.  To 
take  a  single  instance  —  the  obligation  of  veracity  is 
more  or  less  felt  ,  by  men  who  have  never  been  taught 
the  gospel.  There  have  been  whole  nations,  like  the 
ancient  Persians,  who  have  been  celebrated  for  their 
abhorrence  of  falsehood.  Even  the  forgiveness  of  inju¬ 
ries,  though  not  so  commonly  inculcated  or  practised 
outside  of  the  pale  of  Christianity,  is  not  confined 
within  this  limit.  Forbearance  was  enjoined  by  cer¬ 
tain  heathen  sages.  Marcus  Aurelius,  and  Seneca  and 
Epictetus,  are  earnest  in  their  laudation  of  this  virtue. 
There  is  a  large  catalogue  of  particular  duties  —  duties 
of  the  individual  to  himself,  to  the  family,  to  the  state, 
even  to  humanity  at  large  —  which  were  known  to 
mankind,  were  to  some  extent  defined,  and  more  or 
less  practised  among  men.  The  virtues  of  character 
which  have  shed  lustre  on  individuals  or  communities 
that  have  lived  in  ignorance  of  Christianity  are,  to  a 
large  extent,  identical  with  those  which  Christianity 
enjoins.  The  difference  here  is,  that  these  duties  appear 
in  Christian  teaching  in  a  different  setting  :  they  are 
ingrafted  on  new  motives,  are  connected  with  peculiar 
incentives  to  their  performance  ;  and  they  come  home 


POSSIBILITY  AND  FUNCTION  OF  MIRACLES.  109 


to  the  heart  and  conscience  with  a  force  of  appeal, 
which,  as  long  as  they  were  disconnected  with  Chris- 
tianit}r,  never  belonged  to  them.  Thus  the  obligation 
to  forgive,  when  linked  to  the  truth  that  God  for 
Christ’s  sake  has  forgiven  us,  or  as  we  find  it  expressed 
in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  and  in  the  Lord’s  Prayer, 
is  vastly  aided  in  its  fulfilment.  Ethical  justice  an.l 
benevolence  are  placed  in  vital  connection  with  reli¬ 
gion  :  the  obligations  of  man  to  man  are  illumined,  as 
well  as  re-enforced,  by  being  seen  in  the  light  of  the 
common  relation  of  men  to  God,  and  of  their  united 
participation  in  an  inestimable  gift  bestowed  by  him. 

But  the  essential  part  of  Christianity  is  not  contained 
in  the  doctrines  which  belong  to  it  in  common  with 
natural  religion,  or  in  the  ethical  precepts,  which,  if  not 
actually  discerned,  are  still  verifiable,  by  the  light  of 
nature.  If  we  would  understand  what  is  signified  by 
the  Christian  revelation,  we  must  consider  the  end  which 
Christianity  aims  at.  This  end  is  the  restoration  of  men 
to  communion  with  God.  The  purpose  is  to  bring  men 
out  of  the  state  of  separation  from  God  into  the  state 
of  reconciliation  and  filial  union  to  the  Being  in  whom 
they  live.  The  broken  connection  between  God  and 
man  is  to  be  re-established.  God  is  to  make  such  an 
approach  to  man  as  will  place  pardon  and  purification 
within  his  reach,  and  will  found  upon  the  earth  a  king¬ 
dom  of  righteousness  and  peace. 

In  such  an  achievement  mere  doctrinal  communica¬ 
tions  are  inadequate.  The  manifestation  of  God  is 
primarily  in  act  and  deed.  Christianity  is  an  historical 
religion ;  that  is  to  say,  its  groundwork  is  in  events  and 
transactions  on  the  stage  of  history  in  connection  with 
which  the  supernatural  agency  of  God  is  manifestly 
exerted,  and  the  outcome  of  which  is  an  objective 


106  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


salvation  from  sin.  Indeed,  the  method  of  Revelation 
is  pre-eminently  historical.  God  manifests  himself  in 
events  which  evidently  spring  from  a  commingling  of 
supernatural  agency  with  natural  causes.  These  are 
not  isolated  occurrences.  They  are  connected  with  one 
another  ;  and  they  are  of  such  a  character  as  to  awaken 
a  living  perception  of  those  attributes  of  God  which 
are  fitted  to  attract  to  him,  and  to  purify,  those  with 
whose  lives  this  course  of  supernatural  history  is  inti¬ 
mately  concerned.  A  current  of  history  is  established, 
and  carried  forward  in  a  channel  marked  out  for  it.  A 
community  is  created,  evidently  owing  its  origin  and 
preservation  to  supernatural  power  and  guidance,  and  so 
ordered  that  in  it  true  religion  may  be  kept  alive  and 
perfected.  The  merciful  intention  of  God  to  save  men 
shines  with  an  increasing  brightness  through  that  long 
course  of  historical  development  which  attains  its  con¬ 
summation  in  the  death  and  resurrection  of  Him  who  is 
the  image,  or  complete  manifestation,  of  God.  When 
Stephen,  the  first  martyr,  stood  up  before  the  Jewish 
council  to  defend  the  Christian  faith,  he  began  his 
argument  with  referring  to  the  separation  of  Abraham, 
by  the  call  of  God,  from  his  kindred,  and  proceeded  to 
describe  the  deliverance  of  the  Israelites  from  bondage 
by  Moses,  whom  God  had  supernaturally  designated  for 
this  leadership,  and  at  length  came  to  the  divine  mis¬ 
sion  and  the  rejection  of  the  “  Righteous  One.”  Paul 
at  Athens,  having  set  forth  the  first  truths  of  natural 
religion,  asserted  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  in  proof  of 
the  commission  given  him  of  God  to  judge  the  world. 
Every  one  knows  that  the  recital  of  facts  formed  every¬ 
where  the  basis  of  the  preaching  of  the  apostles.  The 
same  thing  is  true  of  the  prophets  of  the  Old  Testa¬ 
ment.  Connected  with  all  rebuke  and  exhortation, 


POSSIBILITY  AND  FUNCTION  OF  MIRACLES.  107 

and  with  the  songs  of  devotion,  are  references  to  the 
way  in  which  God  had  made  himself  known  by  things 
done  for  the  welfare  of  his  people.  The  doctrinal  part 
of  Scripture  rests  upon  an  underlying  foundation  of 
facts.  Doctrine  sets  forth  the  significance  of  that  his 
tory  in  which,  from  age  to  age,  the  just  and  merciful 
God  had  manifested  himself  to  men. 

When  this  view  is  taken  of  Revelation,  it  no  longer 
wears  the  appearance  of  having  sprung  from  an  after¬ 
thought  of  the  Creator.  Revelation  inheres  essen¬ 
tially  in  phenomena  which  form  an  integral  part  of  the 
history  of  mankind.  That  history  is  a  connected  whole. 
As  such,  Revelation  is  the  realization  of  an  eternal 
purpose  in  the  divine  mind.  In  this  light  it  is  regarded 
by  the  writers  of  the  New  Testament.  To  be  sure, 
inasmuch  as  sin  is  no  part  of  the  creation,  but  is  the 
perverse  act  of  the  creature,  and  since  the  consequences 
of  sin  in  the  natural  order  are  thus  brought  in,  it  may 
be  said  with  truth  that  redemption  is  the  remedy  of  a 
disorder.  It  may  be  truly  affirmed  that  Revelation,  in 
the  forms  which  it  actually  assumed,  is  made  possible 
and  necessary  by  the  infraction  of  an  ideal  order.  In 
this  sense  it  may  be  called  a  provision  for  an  emer¬ 
gency.  It  was,  however,  none  the  less  pre-ordained. 
It  entered  into  the  original  plan  of  human  history,  con¬ 
ditioned  on  the  foreseen  fact  of  sin,  as  that  plan  was 
formed  from  eternity  by  the  Creator.  The  Christian 
believer  finds  in  the  purpose  of  redemption  through 
Jesus  Christ  the  only  clew  to  the  understanding  of 
history  in  its  entire  compass. 

Miracles  are  thus  seen  to  be,  not  appendages,  but 
3onstitutive  parts,  of  Revelation.  It  is  in  the  deviation 
of  nature  from  its  ordinary  course  that  the  personal 
agency  —  the  justice,  the  mercy,  the  benevolent  pur* 


108  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


pose,  of  God  —  is  revealed,  and  the  deliverance  of  men 
from  their  ignorance,  and  wilful  desertion  of  God,  and 
from  its  penal  consequences,  is  effected.  Through  the 
agency  of  God  immediately  and  manifestly  exerted  at 
the  proper  junctures,  the  kingdom  of  God  is  introduced, 
and  built  up  in  its  consecutive  stages.  Miracles,  it  is 
true,  may  be  called  “the  credentials  ”  of  apostles.  As 
such,  they  are  auxiliaries  in  the  first  promulgation  of 
Christianity.  They  procure  a  hearing  and  credence  for 
the  founders  of  the  Church.  They  are  a  visible  sanc¬ 
tion  given  by  God  to  their  teaching  and  work.  But  the 
primary  office  of  miracles  in  connection  with  Revela¬ 
tion  is  that  before  defined. 

These  views  render  it  easy  to  point  out  the  relation 
of  miracles  to  the  uniformities  of  nature.  Were  the 
vision  not  clouded,  the  regular  sequences  of  nature,  its 
wise  and  beneficent  order,  would  discover  its  Author, 
and  call  out  emotions  of  love  and  adoration.  The  de¬ 
parture  of  nature  from  its  beaten  path  is  required  to 
impress  on  the  minds  of  men  the  half-forgotten  fact,  that 
behind  the  forces  of  nature,  even  in  its  ordinary  move¬ 
ment,  is  the  will  of  God.  What  are  natural  laws? 
They  are  not  a  code  super-imposed  upon  natural  objects. 
They  are  a  generalized  statement  of  the  way  in  which 
the  objects  of  nature  are  observed  to  act  and  interact. 
Thus  the  miracle  does  not  clash  with  natural  laws.  It 
is  a  modification  in  the  effect  due  to  a  change  in  the 
antecedents.  If  there  is  a  new  phenomenon,  it  is  due 
to  the  interposition  of  an  external  cause.  There  is  not 
a  violation  of  the  law  of  gravitation  when  a  ball  is 
thrown  into  the  air.  A  force  is  counteracted  and  over¬ 
come  by  the  interposition  of  a  force  that  is  superior. 
The  forces  of  nature  are,  within  limits,  subject  to  the 
human  will.  The  intervention  of  the  human  will  gives 


POSSIBILITY  AJS'D  FUNCTION  OP  MIRACLES.  109 

rise  to  phenomena  which  the  forces  of  matter,  independ¬ 
ently  of  the  heterogeneous  agent,  would  never  produce. 
Yet  such  effects  following  upon  volition  are  not  prop¬ 
erly  considered  violations  of  law.  Law  describes  the 
action  of  natural  forces  when  that  action  is  not  modified 
and  controlled  by  voluntary  agency.  If  the  efficiency 
of  the  divine  will  infinitely  outstrips  that  of  the  will  of 
man,  still  miracles  are  no  more  inconsistent  with  natural 
laws  than  is  the  lifting  of  a  man’s  hand  in  obedience  to 
a  volition. 

The  question  whether  the  miracles  described  in  the 
New  Testament,  by  which  it  is  alleged  that  Christianity 
was  ushered  into  the  world,  actually  occurred,  is  to  be 
settled  by  an  examination  of  the  evidence.  It  is  an  his¬ 
torical  question,  and  is  to  be  determined  by  an  applica¬ 
tion  of  the  canons  applicable  to  historical  inquiry.  The 
great  sceptical  philosopher  of  the  last  century  displayed 
his  ingenuity  in  an  attempt  to  show  that  a  miracle  is 
from  its  very  nature,  and  therefore  under  all  circum¬ 
stances,  incapable  of  proof.  His  argument  has  often 
been  reviewed,  and  its  fallacies  have  been  repeatedly 
pointed  out.  It  is  only  a  late  discussion  of  Hume’s 
argument  by  Professor  Huxley  that  prompts  us  to 
subject  it  anew  to  a  brief  examination. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  Hume  founds  our  belief 
in  testimony  solely  on  experience.  “  The  reason,”  he 
says,  “  why  we  place  any  credit  in  witnesses  and  histo¬ 
rians  is  not  derived  from  any  connection  which  we  per¬ 
ceive  a  priori  between  testimony  and  reality,  but  because 
we  are  accustomed  to  find  a  conformity  between  them.” 
This  is  far  from  being  a  correct  account  of  the  origin 
of  our  belief  in  testimony.  Custom  is  not  the  source  of 
credence.  The  truth  is,  that  we  instinctively  give  credit 
to  what  is  told  us ;  that  is,  we  assume  that  the  facts 


110  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


accord  with  testimony.  Experience  serves  to  modify 
this  natural  expectation,  and  we  learn  to  give  or  with¬ 
hold  credence  according  to  circumstances.  The  circum¬ 
stance  which  determines  us  to  believe  or  disbelieve  is 
our  conviction  respecting  the  capacity  of  the  witness  for 
ascertaining  the  truth  on  the  subject  of  his  narration, 
and  respecting  his  honesty.  If  we  are  persuaded  that 
he  could  not  have  been  deceived,  and  that  he  is  truthful, 
we  believe  his  story.  No  doubt  one  thing  which  helps 
to  determine  his  title  to  credit  is  the  probability  or 
improbability  of  the  occurrences  related.  The  circum¬ 
stance  that  such  occurrences  have  never  taken  place  be¬ 
fore,  or  are  44  contrary  to  experience  ”  in  Hume’s  sense 
of  the  phrase,  does  not  of  necessity  destroy  the  credi¬ 
bility  of  testimony  to  them.  An  event  is  not  rendered^ 
incapable  of  proof  because  it  occurs,  if  it  occurs  at  all, 
for  the  first  time.  Unless  it  can  be  shown  to  be  impossi-^ 
ble,  or  incredible  on  some  other  account  than  because  it 
is  an  unexampled  event,  it  is  capable  of  being  proved  by 
witnesses.  Hume  is  not  justified  in  assuming  that  mira¬ 
cles  are  44  contrary  to  experience,”  as  he  defines  this  term. 
This  is  the  very  question  in  dispute.  The  evidence  foi 
the  affirmative,  as  Mill  has  correctly  stated,  is  dimin¬ 
ished  in  force  by  whatever  weight  belongs  to  the  evi¬ 
dence  that  certain  miracles  have  taken  place.  The  gist 
of  Hume’s  argumentation  is  contained  in  this  remark : 


44  Let  us  suppose  that  the  fact  which  they  [the  witnesses] 
affirm,  instead  of  being  only  marvellous,  is  really  miracu¬ 
lous  ;  and  suppose,  also,  that  the  testimony,  considered 
apart  and  in  itself,  amounts  to  an  entire  proof :  in  that 
case,  there  is  proof  against  proof,  of  which  the  strongest 
must  prevail,”  etc.  At  the  best,  according  to  Hume,  in 
every  instance  where  a  miracle  is  alleged,  proof  balances 
proof.  One  flaw  in  this  argument  has  just  been  pointed 


POSSIBILITY  AND  FUNCTION  OF  MIRACLES.  Ill 


out.  The  fundamental  fallacy  of  this  reasoning  is  in 
the  premises,  which  base  belief  on  naked  “  experience  ’ 
divorced  from  all  rational  expectations  drawn  from  any 
other  source.  The  argument  proceeds  on  the  assump¬ 
tion  that  a  miracle  is  j  ust  as  likely  to  occur  in  one  place 
as  in  another ;  that  a  miracle  whereby  the  marks  of 
truthfulness  are  transformed  into  a  mask  of  error  and 
falsehood  is  as  likely  to  occur,  as  (for  example)  the 
healing  of  a  blind  man  by  a  touch  of  the  hand.  This 
might  be  so  if  the  Power  that  governs  the  world 
were  destitute  of  moral  attributes.  “  The  presumption 
against  miracles  as  mere  physical  phenomena  is  rebut¬ 
ted  by  the  presumption  in  favor  of  miracles  as  related 
to  infinite  benevolence.”  1  Hume’s  argument  is  valid 
on  the  theory  of  Atheism. 

We  give  credit  to  our  own  senses  when  we  have 
taken  the  requisite  pains  to  test  the  accuracy  of  the 
observations  made  by  them,  and  have  convinced  our¬ 
selves  that  these  organs  are  in  a  sound  and  healthy 
condition.  If  a  number  of  witnesses,  in  whose  careful¬ 
ness  and  honesty  we  have  entire  confidence,  testify  to 
phenomena  which  they  declare  that  they  have  wit¬ 
nessed,  we  lend,  and  are  bound  to  lend,  to  their  testi¬ 
mony  the  same  credence  which  we  give  to  our  own  eyes 
and  ears.  Whether  the  phenomena  are  of  natural  or 
supernatural  origin  is  a  subsequent  question,  to  be  de¬ 
cided  upon  a  consideration  of  all  the  circumstances. 

Professor  Huxley  objects  to  Hume’s  definition  of  a 
miracle  as  a  violation  of  the  order  of  nature,  “  because 
all  we  know  of  the  order  of  nature  is  derived  froir 
our  observation  of  the  course  of  events  of  which  the 
so-called  miracle  is  a  part.”2  The  laws  of  nature,  he 

1  Professor  E.  A.  Park,  Smith’s  Dictionary  of  the  Bible,  iii.  1965. 

a  Huxley’s  Hume,  p.  131. 


112  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


adds,  “  are  necessarily  based  on  incomplete  knowledge, 
and  are  to  be  held  only  as  grounds  of  a  mere  or  less 
justifiable  expectation.”  He  reduces  Hume’s  doctrine, 
so  far  as  it  is  tenable,  to  the  canon,  —  “  the  more  a 
statement  of  fact  conflicts  with  previous  experience,  the 
more  complete  must  be  the  evidence  which  is  to  justify 
us  in  believing  it.”  By  “more  complete”  evidence  he 
apparently  means  evidence  greater  in  amount,  and  tested 
by  a  more  searching  scrutiny.  One  of  the  examples 
which  is  given  is  the  alleged  existence  of  a  centaur. 
The  possibility  of  a  centaur,  Professor  Huxley  is  far 
from  denying,  contrary  as  the  existence  of  such  an  ani¬ 
mal  would  be  to  those  “  generalizations  of  our  present 
experience  which  we  are  pleased  to  call  the  laws  of 
nature.”  Professor  Huxley  does  not  deny  that  such 
events  as  the  conversion  of  water  into  wine,  and  the 
raising  of  a  dead  man  to  life,  are  within  the  limits  of 
possibility.  Being,  for  aught  we  can  say,  possible,  we 
can  conceive  evidence  to  exist  of  such  an  amount  and 
character  as  to  place  them  beyond  reasonable  doubt. 
Wherein  is  Professor  Huxley’s  position  on  this  ques¬ 
tion  faulty?  He  is  right  in  requiring  that  no  link  shall 
be  wanting  in  the  chain  of  proof.  He  is  right  in  de¬ 
manding  that  a  mere  u  coincidence  ”  shall  not  be  taken 
for  an  efficacious  exertion  of  power.  It  is  certainly 
possible  that  a  man  apparently  dead  should  awake  si¬ 
multaneously  with  a  command  to  arise.  If  the  person 
who  uttered  the  command  knew  that  the  death  was 
only  apparent,  the  awakening  would  be  easily  explained. 
If  he  did  not  know  it,  and  if  the  sleep  were  a  swoon 
where  the  sense  of  hearing  is  suspended,  it  is  still  pos¬ 
sible  that  the  recovery  of  consciousness  might  occur  at 
the  moment  when  the  injunction  to  arise  was  spoken. 
It  would  be,  to  be  sure,  a  startling  coincidence ;  yet  it 


POSSIBILITY  AND  FUNCTION  OF  MIRACLES.  113 


might  be  nothing  more.  But,  if  there  were  decisive 
reason  to  conclude  that  the  man  was  dead,  then  his 
awakening  at  the  command  of  another  does  not  admit 
of  being  explained  by  natural  causes.  The  conjunction 
of  the  return  of  life  and  the  direction  to  awake  cannot 
be  considered  a  mere  coincidence.  If  other  events  of 
the  same  character  take  place,  where  the  moral  honesty 
of  all  the  persons  concerned,  and  other  circumstances, 
exclude  mistake  as  to  the  facts,  the  proof  of  miracles 
is  complete  and  overwhelming.  Canon  Mozley  says,  — 

“  Tlie  evidential  function  of  a  miracle  is  based  upon  the  com¬ 
mon  argument  of  design  as  proved  by  coincidence.  The  greatest 
marvel  or  interruption  of  the  order  of  nature  occurring  by  itself, 
as  the  very  consequence  of  being  connected  with  nothing,  proves 
nothing.  But,  if  it  takes  place  in  connection  with  the  word  or  act 
of  a  person,  that  coincidence  proves  design  in  the  marvel,  and 
makes  it  a  miracle;  and,  if  that  person  professes  to  report  a 
message  or  revelation  from  Heaven,  the  coincidence  again  of  the 
miracle  with  the  professed  message  of  God  proves  design  on 
the  part  of  God  to  warrant  and  authorize  the  message.”  1 

It  is  plain  that  if  events  of  the  kind  referred  to, 
which  cannot  be  due  to  mere  coincidence,  occur,  they 
call  for  no  revisal  of  our  conception  of  “  the  order  of 
nature,”  if  by  this  is  meant  that  material  forces  pre¬ 
viously  unknown  are  to  be  assumed  to  exist  in  order 
to  account  for  them.  Such  phenomena,  it  is  obvious, 
might  occur  as  would  render  the  materialistic  explana¬ 
tion  quite  irrational.  The  work  done  might  so  far  suj- 
pass  the  power  of  the  natural  means  employed,  that 
the  ascription  of  it  to  a  material  agency  would  be 
absurd.  Or,  if  the  supposition  of  an  occult  material 
agency  hitherto  undiscovered  were  tenable,  we  should 
be  driven  to  the  conclusion  that  the  person  who  had 

1  Bampton  Lectures,  pp.  5,  6. 


114  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THE1ST1C  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


become  aware  of  it,  and  was  thus  able  to  give  the 
signal  for  the  occurrence  of  the  phenomena,  was  pos 
sessed  of  supernatural  knowledge ;  and  then  we  should 
have,  if  not  a  miracle  of  power,  a  miracle  of  knowledge. 
The  answer  to  Professor  Huxley,  then,  is,  that  the 
circumstances  of  an  alleged  miracle  may  be  s  ich  as  to 
exclude  the  supposition,  either  that  there  is  a  remark¬ 
able  coincidence  merely,  or  that  the  order  of  nature  — 
the  natural  system  —  is  utterly  different  from  what 
has  been  previously  observed.  The  circumstances  may 
be  such  that  the  only  reasonable  conclusion  is  the 
hypothesis  of  divine  intervention. 

Professor  Huxley,  like  Hume,  treats  the  miracle  as 
an  isolated  event.  He  looks  at  it  exclusively  from  the 
point  of  view  of  a  naturalist,  as  if  material  nature  were 
known  to  be  the  sum  of  all  being  and  the  repository 
of  all  force.  Ide  shuts  his  eyes  to  all  evidence  in  its 
favor  which  it  is  possible  to  derive  from  its  ostensible 
design  and  use  and  from  the  circumstances  surround¬ 
ing  it.  He  shuts  his  eyes  to  the  truth,  and  even  to  the 
possible  truth,  of  the  being  of  God.  Like  Hume,  he 
contemplates  the  miracle  as  an  isolated  marvel.  He 
confines  his  attention  to  a  single  quality  of  the  event, 
—  its  unusual  character,  or  to  the  fact  that  it  is  without 
a  precedent.  This  method  of  regarding  historical  oc- 
cuirences  would  give  an  air  of  improbability  to  innu¬ 
merable  events  that  are  known  to  have  taken  place. 
If  we  are  told  that  the  enlightened  rulers  of  a  nation 
on  a  certain  day  deliberately  set  fire  to  their  capital, 
and  consumed  its  palaces  and  treasures  in  the  flames, 
the  narrative  would  excite  the  utmost  surprise,  if  not 
incredulity.  But  incredulity  vanishes  when  it  is  add¬ 
ed  that  the  capital  was  Moscow,  and  that  it  was  held 
by  an  invading  army  which  Russians  were  willing  * 


POSSIBILITY  AND  FUNCTION  OF  MIRACLES.  115 


make  every  sacrifice  to  destroy.  Extraordinary  actions, 
whether  beneficent  or  destructive,  may  fail  to  obtain, 
or  even  to  deserve,  credence,  until  the  motives  of  the 
actors,  and  the  occasions  that  led  to  them,  are  brought 
to  light.  The  fact  of  the  Moscow  fire  is  not  disproved 
by  showing  that  it  could  not  have  kindled  itself.  The 
method  of  spontaneous  combustion  is  not  the  only  pos¬ 
sible  method  of  accounting  for  such  an  event.  Yet  this 
assumption  fairly  describes  Professor  Huxley’s  philoso- 
phy  on  the  subject  before  us. 

Ignoring  supernatural  agency  altogether,  Professor 
Huxley  is  obliged  to  ascribe  miracles,  on  the  supposi¬ 
tion  that  they  occur,  to  natural  causes,  and  thus  to 
make  them  at  variance  with  the  constitution  of  nature 
as  at  present  understood.  They  are  events  parallel  to 
the  discovery  of  a  centaur.  This  is  an  entirely  gratui¬ 
tous  supposition.  A  miracle  does  not  disturb  our  con¬ 
ception  of  the  system  of  nature.  On  the  contrary,  if 
there  were  not  a  system  of  nature,  there  could  not  be 
a  miracle,  or,  rather,  all  phenomena  would  be  alike 
miraculous.  A  miracle,  wre  repeat,  being  the  act  of 
God,  does  not  compel  us  to  alter  our  conception  of  the 
constitution  of  nature ;  for  natural  forces,  or  second 
causes,  remain  just  what  they  were,  and  the  method  of 
their  action  is  unchanged. 

The  “order  of  nature  ”  is  an  ambiguous  phrase.  It 
may  mean  that  arrangement,  or  mutual  adjustment  of 
parts,  which  constitutes  the  harmony  of  nature.  The 
“  order  of  nature,  in  the  sense  of  harmony,”  as  Mozley 
observes,  u  is  not  disturbed  by  a  miracle.  The  interrup 
tion  of  a  train  of  relations,  in  one  instance,  leaves  them 
standing  in  every  other;  i.e.,  leaves  the  system,  as  such, 
untouched.” 1  To  this  it  may  be  added,  that  a  miracle 

1  Bampton  Lectures,  p.  43. 


116  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


is  not  inharmonious  with  the  comprehensive  system 
which  is  established  and  maintained  by  the  Author  of 
nature,  and  in  which  nature  is  but  a  single  department. 

By  the  “  order  of  nature  ”  is  sometimes  signified  the 
stated  manner  of  the  recurrence  of  physical  phenomena. 
On  this  order  rests  the  expectation  that  things  will  be 
in  the  future  as  they  have  been  in  the  past,  and  the 
belief  that  they  have  been  as  they  now  are.  This  belief 
and  expectation,  though  natural,  and,  we  may  say,  in¬ 
stinctive,  do  not  partake  in  the  least  of  the  character 
of  necessary  truth.  The  habitual  expectation  that  the 
“  order  of  nature,”  embracing  the  sequences  of  phe¬ 
nomena  which  usually  pass  under  our  observation,  will 
be  subject  to  no  interruption  in  the  future,  is  capable 
of  being  subverted  whenever  proof  is  furnished  to  the 
contrary.  The  same  is  true  as  to  the  course  of  things 
in  the  past.  The  principles  of  Theism  bring  to  view  the 
cause  which  is  adequate  to  produce  such  an  interrup¬ 
tion.  The  moral  condition  and  exigencies  of  mankind 
constitute  a  sufficient  motive  for  the  exertion  of  this 
power  by  the  merciful  Being  to  whom  it  belongs.  The 
characteristics  of  Christianity,  apart  from  the  alleged 
miracles  connected  with  it,  predispose  the  mind  to  give 
credit  to  the  testimony  on  which  these  miracles  rest. 

The  relation  of  miracles  to  the  internal  proof  of  di¬ 
vine  revelation  merits  more  particular  attention.  In 
the  last  century  it  was  the  evidence  of  miracles  which 
the  defenders  of  Christianity  principally  relied  on.  The 
work  of  Paley  is  constructed  on  this  basis.  The  argu¬ 
ment  for  miracles  is  placed  by  him  in  the  foreground ; 
the  testimony  in  behalf  of  them  is  set  forth  with  ad¬ 
mirable  clearness  and  vigor,  and  objections  are  parried 
with  mucli  skill.  The  internal  evidence  takes  a  subor- 


POSSIBILITY  AND  FUNCTION  OF  MIRACLES.  117 

dinate  place.  This  whole  method  of  presenting  the 
case  has  been  regarded  in  later  times  with  misgivings 
and  opposition.  Coleridge  may  be  mentioned  as  one 
of  its  ablest  censors.  The  contents  of  Christianity  as 
a  system  of  truth,  and  the  transcendent  excellence  ot 
Christ,  have  been  considered  the  main  evidence  of  the 
supernatural  origin  of  the  gospel.  The  old  method  has 
not  been  without  conspicuous  representatives,  of  whom 
the  late  Canon  Mozley  is  one  of  the  most  notable.  But, 
on  the  whole,  it  is  upon  the  internal  argument,  in  its 
various  branches,  that  the  main  stress  has  been  laid  in 
recent  days  in  the  conflict  with  doubt  and  disbelief.  In 
Germany,  Schleiermacher,  whose  profound  appreciation 
of  the  character  of  Jesus  is  the  key-note  in  his  system, 
held  that  a  belief  in  miracles  is  not  directly  involved  in 
the  faith  of  a  Christian  ;  although  the  denial  of  miracles 
is  evidently  destructive,  as  implying  such  a  distrust  of 
the  capacity  or  integrity  of  the  apostles  as  would  invali¬ 
date  all  their  testimony  respecting  Christ,  and  thus 
prevent  us  from  gaining  an  authentic  impression  of  his 
person  and  character.1  Rothe,  who  was  a  firm  believer 
in  the  miracles,  as  actual  historical  occurrences,  never¬ 
theless  maintains  that  the  acceptance  of  them  is  not 
indispensable  to  the  attainment  of  the  benefits  of  the 
gospel.  They  were,  in  point  of  fact,  essential  to  the 
introduction  of  Christianity  into  the  world :  the  rejec¬ 
tion  of  them  is  unphilosophical,  and  contrary  to  the 
conclusion  warranted  by  historical  evidence.  But  now 
that  Christ  is  known,  and  Christianity  is  introduced  as 
a  working  power  into  history,  it  is  possible  for  those 
who  doubt  about  the  miracles  to  receive  him  in  faith, 
and  through  him  to  enter  into  communion  with  God.2 
There  can  be  no  question,  that,  at  the  present  day, 
i  (Jhrlstl.  Glaube,  vol.  ii.  p.  8a  2  Zur  Dogmatik,  p.lll. 


118  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


minds  which  are  disquieted  by  doubt,  or  are  more  or 
less  disinclined  to  believe  in  revelation,  should  first  give 
heed  to  the  internal  evidence.  It  is  not  by  witnesses 
to  miracles,  even  if  they  stood  before  us,  that  scepticism 
is  overcome,  where  there  is  an  absence  of  any  living 
discernment  of  the  peculiarity  of  the  gospel  and  of  the 
perfection  of  its  Founder.  How  can  a  greater  effect  be 
expected  from  miracles  alleged  to  have  taken  place  at 
a  remote  date,  be  the  proofs  what  they  may,  than  the 
same  miracles  produced  upon  those  in  whose  presence 
they  were  wrought?  Those  who  disparage  the  internal 
evidence,  and  place  their  reliance  on  the  argument  from 
miracles,  forget  the  declaration  of  Christ  himself,  that 
there  are  moods  of  disbelief  which  the  resurrection 
of  a  man  from  the  dead,  under  their  own  observation, 
would  not  dispel.  They  forget  the  attitude  of  many 
who  had  the  highest  possible  proof  of  an  external  nature 
that  miracles  were  done  by  him  and  by  the  apostles. 
Moreover,  they  fail  to  consider,  that,  for  the  establish¬ 
ment  of  miracles  as  matters  of  fact,  something  more  is 
required  than  a  scrutiny  such  as  would  avail  for  the 
proof  of  ordinary  occurrences.  It  is  manifest  that  all 
those  characteristics  of  Christ  and  of  Christianity  which 
predispose  us  to  attribute  it  to  a  miraculous  origin  are 
of  weight  as  proof  of  the  particular  miracles  said  to  have 
taken  place  in  connection  with  it. 

At  the  same  time,  miracles,  and  the  proof  of  miracles 
from  testimony,  cannot  be  spared.  When  the  peculiar¬ 
ities  which  distinguished  Christianity  from  all  other 
religions  have  impressed  our  minds,  when  the  charac¬ 
ter  of  Christ  in  its  unique  and  supernal  quality  has 
risen  before  us  in  its  full  attractive  power,  and  when, 
from  these  influences,  we  are  almost  persuaded,  at  least 
not  a  little  inclined,  to  believe  in  the  gospel  as  a  revela- 


POSSIBILITY  AND  FUNCTION  OF  MIRACLES.  1 19 


tion  of  God,  we  crave  some  attestation  of  an  objective 
character.  We  naturally  expect,  that,  if  all  this  be 
really  upon  a  plane  above  nature,  there  will  be  some 
explicit  sign  and  attestation  of  the  fact.  Such  attesta 
tion  being  wanting,  the  question  recurs  whether  there 
may  not  be,  after  all,  some  occult  power  of  nature  to 
which  the  moral  phenomena  of  Christianity  might  bo 
traced.  Can  we  be  sure  that  we  are  not  still  among 
second  causes  alone,  in  contact  with  a  human  wisdom, 
which,  however  exalted,  is  still  human,  and  mixed  with 
error  ?  Are  we  certain  that  we  have  not  here  merely 
a  flower  in  the  garden  of  nature,  —  a  flower,  perhaps, 
of  consummate  beauty  and  delicious  fragrance,  yet  a 
product  of  the  earth  ?  It  is  just  at  this  point  that  the 
record  of  miracles  comes  in  to  satisfy  a  rational  expec¬ 
tation,  to  give  their  full  effect  to  other  considerations 
where  the  suspicion  of  a  subjective  bias  may  intrude, 
and  to  corroborate  a  belief  which  needs  a  support  of  just 
this  nature.  The  agency  of  God  in  connection  with  the 
origin  of  Christianity  is  manifested  to  the  senses,  as  well 
as  to  the  reason  and  the  heart.  Not  simply  a  wisdom 
that  is  more  than  human,  a  virtue  of  which  there  is  no 
parallel  in  human  experience,  a  merciful,  renovating  in¬ 
fluence  not  referable  to  any  creed  or  philosophy  of  man’s 
device,  make  their  appeal  to  the  sense  of  the  supernatu¬ 
ral  and  divine  ;  yet  also,  not  disconnected  from  these 
supernatural  tokens,  but  mingling  with  them,  are  mani¬ 
festations  of  a  power  exceeding  that  of  nature,  —  a 
power  equally  characteristic  of  God,  and  identifying 
the  Author  of  nature  with  the  Being  of  whom  Christ 
is  the  messenger.  Strip  the  manifestation  of  this  ingre¬ 
dient  of  power,  and  an  element  is  lacking  for  its  full 
effect.  The  other  parts  of  the  manifestation  inspire  a 
willingness  to  believe,  a  rational  anticipation  that  the 


120  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


one  missing  element  is  associated  with  them.  When 
this  anticipation  is  verified  by  answering  proof,  the 
argument  is  complete.  An  inchoate  faith  rises  into  an 
assured  confidence. 

The  importance  of  the  evidence  for  miracles,  then, 
does  not  rest  solely  on  the  ground,  that,  if  it  be  dis¬ 
credited,  the  value  of  the  apostles’  testimony  respect¬ 
ing  other  aspects  of  the  life  of  Christ  is  fatally  weakened. 
The  several  proofs  need  the  miracles  as  a  complement 
in  order  to  give  them  full  efficacy,  and  to  remove  a  diffi¬ 
culty  which  otherwise  stands  in  the  way  of  the  convic¬ 
tion  which  they  tend  to  create.  Miracles,  it  may  also  be 
affirmed,  are  component  parts  of  that  gospel  which  is 
the  object  of  belief.  Not  only  are  they  parts,  and  not 
merely  accessories,  of  the  act  of  revelation,  but  they  are 
comprehended  within  the  work  of  deliverance  through 
Christ,  —  the  redemption  which  is  the  object  of  the 
Christian  faith.  This  is  evidently  true  of  his  resurrec¬ 
tion,  in  which  his  victory  over  sin  was  seen  in  its  appro¬ 
priate  fruit,  and  his  victory  over  death  was  realized, 
—  realized,  as  well  as  demonstrated  to  man. 

In  fine,  miracles  are  the  complement  of  the  internal 
evidence.  The  two  sorts  of  proof  lend  support  each 
to  the  other,  and  they  conspire  together  to  satisfy  the 
candid  inquirer  thxt  Christianity  is  of  supernatural 
origin. 


CHAPTER  V.  • 


CHRIST’S  CONSCIOUSNESS  OF  A  SUPERNATURAL  CALL 
ING  VERIFIED  BY  HIS  SINLESS  CHARACTER. 

Writers  on  the  evidences  of  Christianity,  after 
some  introductory  observations  on  natural  theolog}r, 
generally  take  up  at  once  the  subject  of  the  genuine¬ 
ness  and  credibility  of  the  Gospels,  for  the  obvious 
reason  that  in  these  books,  if  anywhere,  is  preserved 
the  testimony  to  the  facts  connected  with  the  life  of 
Jesus.  There  are  reasons,  however,  which  have  special 
force  at  present,  why  this  leading  topic  may  well  be 
deferred  to  a  somewhat  later  stage  of  the  discussion. 
Independently  of  differences  of  opinion  respecting  the 
authorship  and  date  of  the  New-Testament  narratives, 
there  are  not  wanting  grounds  for  believing  the  essen¬ 
tial  facts  which  form  the  ground-work  of  the  Christian 
faith.  It  is  important  to  remember,  that,  besides  these 
books,  there  exist  other  memorials,  written  and  unwrit¬ 
ten,  of  the  events  with  which  we  are  concerned.  We 
have  Paul’s  Epistles,  —  the  most  prominent  of  which 
are  not  contested  even  by  the  sceptically  disposed, — 
the  oldest  of  which,  the  first  to  the  Thessalonians,  was 
written  at  Corinth  as  early  as  the  year  58.  But,  more 
than  this,  there  are  cogent  proofs,  and  there  are  strong 
probabilities,  which  may  be  gathered  from  known  and 
conceded  consequences  of  the  life  of  Jesus  among  men. 

We  can  reason  backwards.  Even  a  cursory  glance  at 

121 


122  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEIS  IG  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


Christianity  in  the  course  of  its  acknowledged  history, 
and  as  an  existing  phenomenon  standing  before  the  eyes 
of  all,  is  enough  to  convince  everybody  that  something 
very  weighty  and  momentous  took  place  in  Palestine 
in  connection  with  the  short  career  of  Jesus.  There 
followed,  for  example,  indisputably,  the  preaching,  the 
character,  the  martyrdom,  of  the  apostles.  The  church 
started  into  being.  The  composition  of  the  Gospels 
themselves,  whenever  and  by  whomsoever  it  took  place, 
was  an  effect  traceable  ultimately  to  the  life  of  Jesus. 
How  came  they  to  be  written?  How  did  what  they 
relate  of  him  come  to  be  believed?  How  came  miracles 
to  be  attributed  to  him,  and  not  to  John  the  Baptist 
and  to  Palestinian  rabbis  of  the  time  ?  Effects  imply 
adequate  causes.  A  pool  of  water  in  the  street  may 
be  explained  by  a  summer  shower,  but  not  so  the  Gulf 
Stream.  Effects  imply  such  causes  as  are  adapted  to 
produce  them.  The  results  of  a  movement  disclose  its 
nature.  When  we  are  confronted  by  historical  phe¬ 
nomena,  complex  and  far-reaching  in  their  character, 
we  find  that  no  solution  will  hold  which  subtracts  any 
thing  essential  from  the  actual  historic  antecedents.  If 
we  eliminate  any  of  the  conjoined  causes,  we  discover 
that  something  in  the  aggregate  effect  is  left  unex¬ 
plained.  Moreover,  the  elements  that  compose  a  state 
of  things  which  gives  rise  to  definite  historical  conse¬ 
quences  are  braided  together.  They  do  not  easily  allow 
themselves  to  be  separated  from  one  another.  Pry  out 
one  stone  from  an  arch,  and  the  entire  structure  will 
fall.  It  is  a  proverb  that  a  liar  must  have  a  long  mem¬ 
ory.  It  is  equally  true  that  an  historical  critic  exposes 
himself  to  peril  whenever  he  venture j  on  the  task  of 
constructing  a  situation  in  the  past,  a  combination  of 
circumstances,  materially  diverse  from  the  reality. 


CHRIST’S  SUPERNATURA  l  CALLING 


123 


Events  as  they  actually  occur  constitute  a  web  from 
which  no  part  can  be  torn  without  being  instantly 
missed.  History,  then,  has  a  double  verification ;  first, 
in  the  palpable  effects  that  are  open  to  everybody's 
inspection ;  and,  secondly,  in  the  connected  relation, 
the  internal  cohesion,  of  the  particulars  that  compose 
the  scene.  Let  any  one  try  the  experiment  of  subtract¬ 
ing  from  the  world’s  history  any  signal  event,  like  the 
battle  of  Marathon,  the  teaching  of  Aristotle,  or  the 
usurpation  of  Julius  Csesar.  He  will  soon  be  convinced 
of  the  futility  of  the  attempt ;  and  this  apart  from  the 
violence  that  must  be  done  to  direct  historical  testi¬ 
monies. 

Matthew  Arnold  tells  us,  that  “  there  is  no  evidence 
of  the  establishment  of  our  four  Gospels  as  a  gospel 
canon,  or  even  of  their  existence  as  they  now  finally 
stand  at  all,  before  the  last  quarter  of  the  second  cen¬ 
tury.”  1  I  believe  that  this  statement  in  both  of  its 
parts  is  incorrect ;  that  the  theory  at  the  basis  of  such 
views,  of  a  gradual  selection  of  the  four  out  of  a 
larger  group  of  competitive  Gospels,  and  of  the  growth 
of  them  by  slow  accretion,  is  a  false  one.  It  can  be 
proved  to  rest  on  a  misconception  of  the  state  of  things 
in  the  early  church,  and  to  be  open  to  other  insu¬ 
perable  objections.  But  let  the  assumption  contained 
in  the  quotation  above  be  allowed,  for  the  present,  to 
stand.  Such  authors  as  Strauss,  Kenan,  Keim,  not¬ 
withstanding  their  rejection  of  received  opinions  re¬ 
specting  the  authorship  and  date  of  the  Gospels,  do  not 
hesitate  to  draw  the  materials  for  their  biographies  of 
Jesus  from  them.  They  undertake,  to  be  sure,  to  sub¬ 
ject  them  to  a  sifting  process.  We  have  to  complain 
that  their  dissection  is  often  arbitrary,  being  guided  hj 

1  God  and  the  Bible,  p.  224. 


124  THE  GROUNDS  OF  TIIEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

some  predilection  merely  subjective,  or  determined  by 
the  exigencies  of  a  theory.  Professing  to  be  scientific, 
they  are  warped  by  an  unscientific  bias.  But  large 
portions  of  the  evangelic  narratives  they  admit  to  be 
authentic.  If  they  did  not  do  this,  they  would  have  to 
lay  down  the  pen.  Their  vocation  as  historians  would 
be  gone.  Now,  then,  we  may  see  what  will  follow,  if 
we  take  for  granted  no  more  of  the  contents  of  the 
Gospels  than  what  is  conceded  to  be  true,  —  no  more, 
at  any  rate,  than  what  can  be  proved  on  the  spot  to 
be  veritable  history.  Waiving,  for  the  moment,  contro¬ 
verted  questions  about  the  origin  of  these  books,  let  us 
see  what  conclusions  can  be  fairly  deduced  from  portions 
of  them  which  no  rational  critic  will  consider  fictitious. 
Having  proceeded  as  far  as  we  may  on  this  path,  it  will 
then  be  in  order  to  vindicate  for  the  Gospels  the  rank 
of  genuine  and  trustworthy  narratives,  in  opposition  to 
the  opinion  that  they  are  of  later  origin,  and  compound¬ 
ed  of  fact  and  fiction. 

I.  The  known  assertions  of  Jesus  respecting  his  call¬ 
ing,  and  his  authority  among  men,  if  they  are  not  well 
founded,  imply  either  a  lack  of  mental  sanity,  or  a  deep 
perversion  of  character ;  but  neither  of  these  last  alter¬ 
natives  can  be  reasonably  accepted. 

No  one  doubts  that  Jesus  professed  to  be  the  Christ, 
—  the  Messiah.  This  the  apostles  from  the  first,  in  their 
preaching,  declared  him  to  be.  They  went  out  preach¬ 
ing,  first  of  all,  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  is  the  Messiah. 
It  was  on  account  of  this  claim  that  he  was  put  to  death. 
Before  his  judges,  Jewish  and  Roman,  he  for  the  most 
part  kept  silent.  Seeing  that  they  were  blinded  by  pas¬ 
sion,  or  governed  by  purely  selfish  motives,  he  forbore 
useless  appeals  to  reason  and  conscience.  But  he  broke 
silence  to  avow  that  he  was  indeed  the  king,  the  “  Son 


CHRIST’S  SUPERNATURAL  CALLING. 


125 


of  God,”  —  a  familiar  title  of  the  Messiah.1  It  was  held 
by  the  Jewish  magistrates  to  be  a  blasphemous  preten¬ 
sion.2  He  made  it  clear,  then  and  at  other  times,  what 
sort  of  a  kingship  it  was  which  he  asserted  for  himself. 
It  was  not  a  temporal  sovereignty,  “  a  kingdom  of  this 
world :  ”  no  force  was  to  be  used  in  the  defence  or  ex¬ 
tension  of  it.  It  was,  however,  a  control  far  deeper  and 
wider  than  any  secular  rule.  He  was  the  monarch  of 
souls.  His  right  was  derived  immediately  from  God. 
His  legislation  extended  to  the  inmost  motives  of  action, 
and  covered  in  its  wide  sweep  all  the  particulars  of  con¬ 
duct.  In  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  he  spoke  with  an 
authority  which  was  expressly  contrasted  with  that  of 
all  previous  lawgivers  —  “But  I  say  unto  you,”  etc.8 
To  his  precepts  he  annexed  penalties  and  rewards  which 
were  to  be  endured  and  received  beyond  the  grave.  Nay, 
nis  call  was  to  all  to  come  to  him,  to  repose  in  him  im¬ 
plicit  trust  as  a  moral  and  religious  guide.  He  laid  claim 
to  the  absolute  allegiance  of  every  soul.  To  those  who 
complied  he  promised  blessedness  in  the  life  to  come. 
There  can  be  no  doubt  that  he  assumed  to  exercise  the 
prerogative  of  pardoning  sin.  Apart  from  declarations, 
uttered  in  an  authoritative  tone,  of  the  terms  on  which 
God  would  forgive  sin,4  he  assured  individuals  of  the 
pardon  of  their  transgressions.  He  taught  that  his 
death  stood  in  the  closest  relation  to  the  remission  of 
sins.  The  divine  clemency  towards  the  sinful  is  some¬ 
how  linked  to  it.  He  founded  a  rite  on  this  efficacy  of 
his  death,* — a  part  of  his  teaching  which  is  not  only 
recorded  by  three  of  the  Gospel  writers,  but  is  further 

1  Matt.  xxvi.  64,  xxvii.  11,  cf.  vers.  29,  37 ;  Mark  xiv.  62,  xv.  2,  cf. 
vers.  9,  12,  18,  26;  Luke  xxii.  70,  xxiii.  2,  cf.  vers.  2,  38;  Jolm  xviii.  33, 
57,  cf.  ver.  39,  xix.  3, 14, 19,  21. 

2  Matt.  xxvi.  65;  Mark  xiv.  64. 

4  Matt.  v.  26,  vi.  14,  15. 


«  Matt.  v.  22,  28,  34,  39,  44. 


126  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRIS xTAN  BELIEF. 


placed  beyond  doubt  by  the  testimony  of  the  apostle 
Paul.1  He  uttered,  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt,  the 
largest  predictions  concerning  the  prospective  growth 
of  his  spiritual  empire.  It  was  to  be  as  leaven,  as  a 
grain  of  mustard-seed.2  The  agency  of  God  would  be 
directed  to  securing  its  progress  and  triumph.  The  gov¬ 
ernment  of  the  world  wrould  be  shaped  with  reference 
to  this  end. 

I  have  stated  in  moderate  terms  the  claims  put  forth 
by  Jesus.  These  statements,  or  their  equivalent,  enter 
into  the  very  substance  of  the  evangelic  tradition.  Not 
only  are  they  admitted  to  be  authentic  passages  in  the 
Gospels,  but  their  historic  reality  is  presupposed  in 
the  first  teaching  of  Christianity  by  the  apostles,  and 
must  be  assumed  in  order  to  account  for  the  rise  of  the 
church. 

Let  it  be  remembered  that  these  pretensions  are  put 
forth  by  a  person  whose  social  position  is  that  of  a  peas¬ 
ant.  He  is  brought  up  in  a  village  which  enjoys  no 
very  good  repute  in  the  region  around  it.  Among  his 
fellow-villagers  he  has  made  no  extraordinary  impres¬ 
sion.  When  he  comes  among  them  as  a  teacher,  they 
refer  to  his  connection  with  a  family  in  the  midst  of 
them  in  a  tone  to  imply  that  they  had  known  of  nothing 
adapted  to  excite  a  remarkable  expectation  concerning 
him.3  For  this  passage  in  the  Gospel  narrative  bears 
indisputable  marks  of  authenticity. 

What  shall  be  said  of  such  claims,  put  forth  by  such 
a  person,  or  by  any  human  being?  No  doubt  the  first 
impression  in  such  a  case  would  be,  that  he  had  lost  his 
reason.  If  there  is  not  wilful  imposture,  it  would  be 
said  there  must  be  insanity.  Nothing  else  can  explain 

1  1  Cor.  xi.  25.  2  Matt.  xiii.  51-33;  Luke  xiii.  19-21. 

8  Matt.  xiii.  55-57;  Mark  vi.  3,  4;  Luke  iv.  22. 


CHRIST’S  SUPERNATURAL  CALLING. 


127 


bo  monstrous  a  delusion.  We  have  only  to  imagine  that 
a  young  man  who  has  always  lived  in  some  obscure 
country  town  presents  himself  in  one  of  our  large  cities, 
and  announces  himself  there,  and  to  his  fellow-townsmen, 
and  wherever  else  he  can  gain  a  hearing,  as  the  Son  of 
God,  or  Messiah;  summons  all,  the  high  and  low,  the 
educated  and  ignorant,  to  accept  him  as  a  special  mes¬ 
senger  from  Heaven,  to  obey  him  implicitly,  to  break 
every  tie  which  interferes  with  absolute  obedience  to 
him,  —  to  hate,  as  it  were,  father  and  mother,  wife  and 
children,  for  his  cause.  He  proceeds,  we  wrill  suppose, 
in  the  name  of  God,  to  issue  injunctions  for  the  regula¬ 
tion  of  the  thoughts  even,  as  well  as  of  external  con¬ 
duct,  to  forgive  the  sins  of  one  and  another  evil-doer, 
and  to  warn  all  who  disbelieve  in  him,  and  disregard 
his  commandments,  that  retribution  awaits  them  in  the 
future  life.  It  being  made  clear  that  he  is  not  an  im¬ 
postor,  the  inference  would  be  drawn  at  once  that  his 
reason  is  unsettled.  This,  in  fact,  is  the  common  judg¬ 
ment  in  such  cases.  To  entertain  the  belief  that  one 
is  the  Messiah  is  a  recognized  species  of  insanity.  It  is 
taken  as  proof  positive  of  mental  aberration.  This  is 
the  verdict  of  the  courts.  Erskine,  in  one  of  his  cele¬ 
brated  speeches,1  adverts  to  an  instance  of  this  kind  oi 
lunacy.  A  man  who  had  been  confined  in  a  mad-house 
prosecuted  the  keeper,  Dr.  Sims,  and  his  own  brother, 
for  unlawful  detention.  Erskine,  before  he  had  been 
informed  of  the  precise  nature  of  his  delusion,  examined 
the  prosecutor  without  eliciting  any  signs  of  mental 
unsoundness.  At  length,  learning  what  the  particular 
character  of  the  mental  disorder  was,  the  great  lawyer, 
with  affected  reverence,  apologized  for  his  unbecoming 
treatment  of  the  witness  in  presuming  thus  to  examine 

1  In  behalf  of  Hadfield,  indicted  for  firing  a  pistol  at  the  king. 


L28  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEiSTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 


him.  The  man  expressed  liis  forgiveness,  and  then, 
with  the  utmost  gravity,  in  the  face  of  the  whole  court, 
said,  “  I  am  the  Christ.”  He  deemed  himself  “the  Lord 
and  Saviour  of  mankind.”  Nothing  further,  of  course, 
was  required  for  the  acquittal  of  the  persons  charged 
with  unjustly  confining  him. 

When  it  is  said  that  claims  like  those  of  Jesus,  unless 
they  can  be  sustained,  are  indicative  of  mental  derange¬ 
ment,  we  may  be  pointed,  by  way  of  objection,  to  found¬ 
ers  of  other  s}7stems  of  religion.  But  among  these  no 
parallel  instance  can  be  adduced  to  disprove  the  posi¬ 
tion  here  taken.  Confucius  can  hardly  be  styled  a 
religious  teacher :  he  avoided,  as  far  as  he  could,  all  ref 
erence  to  the  supernatural.  His  wisdom  was  of  man, 
and  professed  no  higher  origin.  A  sage,  a  sagacious 
moralist,  he  is  not  to  be  classified  with  pretenders  to 
divine  illumination.  Of  Zoroaster  we  know  so  little, 
that  it  is  utterly  impossible  to  tell  what  he  affirmed 
respecting  his  relation  to  God.  The  very  date  of  his 
birth  is  now  set  back  by  scholars  to  a  point  at  least 
five  hundred  years  earlier  than  the  time  previously 
assigned  for  it.  Of  him,  one  of  the  recent  authorities 
remarks,  “  The  events  of  his  life  are  almost  all  en¬ 
shrouded  in  darkness,  to  dispel  which  will  be  forever 
impossible,  should  no  authentic  historical  records  be 
discovered  in  Bactria,  his  home.”  1  A  still  later  writer 
goes  farther :  “When  he  lived,  no  one  knows ;  and  every 
one  agrees  that  all  that  the  Parsis  and  the  Greeks  tell 
of  him  is  mere  legend,  through  which  no  solid  histori¬ 
cal  facts  can  be  arrived  at.”  2  Thus  the  history  of  the 
principal  teacher  of  one  of  the  purest  and  most  ancient 

1  Haug,  Essays  on  the  Laws,  Writings,  and  Religion  of  tlie  Parsis 
(2d  ed.,  Boston,  1868),  p.  295. 

2  The  Zend-Avesta,  translated  by  J.  Darmestetter  (Oxford,  1880), 
Intr.,  p.  lxxvi. 


CHRIST’S  SUPERNATURAL  CALLING. 


129 


of  the  ethnic  religions  is  veiled  in  hopeless  obscurity. 
With  respect  to  Bnddha,  or  Cakyamuni,  it  is  not  impos¬ 
sible  to  separate  main  facts  in  his  career  from  the  mass 
of  legendary  matter  which  has  accumulated  about  them. 
But  the  office  which  he  took  on  himself  was  not  even 
that  of  a  prophet.  He  was  a  philanthropist,  a  reformer. 
The  supernatural  features  of  his  history  have  been 
grafted  upon  it  by  later  generations.  An  able  scholar 
has  lately  described  Buddhism  as  “  a  religion  which 
ignores  the  existence  of  God,  and  denies  the  existence 
of  the  soul.” 1  “  Buddhism  is  no  religion  at  all,  and 

certainly  no  theology,  but  rather  a  system  of  duty, 
morality,  and  benevolence,  without  real  deity,  prayer, 
or  priest.”  2  Mohammed  unquestionably  believed  him¬ 
self  inspired,  and  clothed  with  a  divine  commission. 
Beyond  the  ferment  excited  in  his  mind  by  the  vivid 
perception  of  a  single  great,  half-forgotten  truth,  we 
are  aided  in  explaining  his  self-delusion,  as  far  as  it 
was  a  delusion,  by  due  attention  to  the  morbid  con¬ 
stitutional  tendencies  which  led  to  epileptic  fits,  as  well 
as  to  reveries  and  trances.  Moreover,  there  were  vices 
of  character  which  played  an  important  part  in  nourish¬ 
ing  his  fanatical  convictions ;  and  these  must  be  taken 
into  the  account.  It  is  not  maintained  here  that  reli¬ 
gious  enthusiasm  which  passes  the  limits  of  truth  should 
always  raise  a  suspicion  of  insanity.  We  are  not  called 
upon  by  the  necessities  of  the  argument  to  point  out 
the  boundary-line  where  reason  is  unhinged.  Socrates 
was  persuaded  that  a  demon  or  spirit  within  kept  him 
back  from  unwise  actions.  Whether  right  or  wrong 
in  this  belief,  he  was  no  doubt  a  man  of  sound  mind. 
One  may  erroneously  conceive  himself  to  be  under 

1  See  Encycl.  Britannica,  art.  “  Buddhism,”  by  J.  W.  Rhys  Davis. 

2  Monier  Williams,  Hinduism  (London,  1871),  p.  74. 


130  THE  GROUNDS  OE  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


supernatural  guidance  without  being  literally  irrational. 
But  if  Socrates,  a  mortal  like  the  men  about  him,  had 
solemnly  and  persistently  declared  himself  to  he  the 
vicegerent  of  the  Almighty,  and  to  have  the  authority 
and  the  prerogatives  which  Jesus  claimed  for  himself; 
had  he  declared,  just  before  drinking  the  hemlock,  that 
his  death  was  the  means  or  the  guaranty  of  the  forgive* 
ness  of  sins,  —  the  sanity  of  his  mind  would  not  have 
been  so  clear. 

Nor  is  there  validity  in  the  objection  that  times  have 
changed,  so  that  an  inference  which  would  justly  follow 
upon  the  assertion  of  so  exalted  claims  by  a  person  liv¬ 
ing  now  would  not  be  warranted  in  the  case  of  one 
living  in  that  remote  age,  and  in  the  community  to 
which  Jesus  belonged.  The  differences  between  that 
day  and  this,  and  between  Palestine,  and  America  or 
England,  are  not  of  a  quality  to  lessen  materially  the 
difficulty  of  supposing  that  a  man  in  his  right  mind 
could  falsely  believe  himself  to  be  the  King  and  Re¬ 
deemer  of  mankind.  The  conclusive  answer  to  the  ob- 
jection  is,  that  the  claims  of  Jesus  were  actually  treated 
as  in  the  highest  degree  presumptuous.  They  were 
scoffed  at  as  monstrous  by  his  contemporaries.  Pie  was 
put  to  death  for  bringing  them  forward.  Shocking 
blasphemy  was  thought  to  be  involved  in  such  preten¬ 
sions.  It  is  true  that  individuals  in  that  era  set  up  to 
be  the  Messiah,  especially  in  the  tremendous  contest 
that  ensued  with  the  Romans.  But  these  false  Mes¬ 
siahs  were  impostors,  or  men  in  whom  imposture  and 
wild  fanaticism  were  equally  mingled. 

Mental  disorder  has  actually  been  imputed  to  Jesus. 
At  the  beginning  of  his  public  labors  at  Capernaum, 
his  relatives,  hearing  what  excitement  he  was  causing, 
and  how  the  people  thronged  upon  him,  so  that  he  and 


CHRIST’S  SUPERNATURAL  CALLING. 


131 


his  disciples  could  not  snatch  a  few  minutes  in  which 
to  take  refreshment,  for  the  moment  feared  that  he  was 
“  beside  himself.” 1  No  doubt  will  be  raised  about  the 
truth  of  this  incident :  it  is  not  a  circumstance  which 
any  disciple,  earlier  or  later,  would  have  been  disposed 
to  invent.  The  Pharisees  and  scribes  charged  that  he 
was  possessed  of  a  demon.  According  to  the  fourth 
Gospel,  they  said,  “He  hath  a  demon,  and  is  mad.”2 
The  credibility  of  the  fourth  evangelist  here  is  assumed 
by  Renan.3  In  Mark,  the  charge  that  he  is  possessed 
by  the  prince  of  evil  spirits  immediately  follows  the 
record  of  the  attempt  of  his  relatives  “  to  lay  hold  on 
him.”  4  Not  improbably,  the  evangelist  means  to  imply 
that  mental  aberration  was  involved  in  the  accusation  of 
the  scribes,  as  it  is  expressly  said  to  have  been  imputed 
to  him  by  his  family.  This  idea  of  mental  alienation 
has  not  come  alone  from  the  Galilean  family  in  their 
first  amazement  at  the  commotion  excited  by  Jesus, 
and  in  their  solicitude  on  account  of  his  unremitting 
devotion  to  his  work.  Nor  has  it  been  confined  to  the 
adversaries  who  were  stung  by  his  rebukes,  and  dreaded 
the  loss  of  their  hold  on  the  people.  A  recent  writer, 
after  speaking  of  Jesus  as  swept  onward,  in  the  latter 
part  of  his  career,  by  a  tide  of  enthusiasm,  says,  u  Some¬ 
times  one  would  have  said  that  his  reason  was  dis¬ 
turbed.”  “  The  grand  vision  of  the  kingdom  of  God 
made  him  dizzy.” 5  “  His  temperament,  inordinately 

impassioned,  carried  him  every  moment  beycnd  the 

1  Mark  iii.  21,  cf.  ver.  32.  In  ver.  21  e\eyov  may  have  an  indefi* 
nite  subject,  and  refer  to  a  spreading  report  which  the  relatives  — 
oi  Trap  avrov  —  had  heard :  so  Ewald,  Weiss,  Marciisevangelium,  ad 
loc.  Or  it  may  denote  what  was  said  by  the  relatives  themselves :  so 
Meyer. 

2  p.atVerat,  John  x.  20.  8  Vie  de  Jesus,  13me  ed  ,  p.  331. 

<  Mark  iii.  21  6  “  Lui  donnait  le  vertige.” 


132  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


limits  of  human  nature.” 1  These  suggestions  of  Renan 
are  cautiously  expressed.  He  broaches,  as  will  be  seen 
hereafter,  an  hypothesis  still  more  revolting,  for  the 
sake  of  clearing  away  difficulties  which  his  Atheistic  or 
Pantheistic  philosophy  does  not  enable  him  otherwise 
to  surmount.  Yet  he  does,  though  not  without  some 
signs  of  timidity,  more  than  insinuate  that  enthusiasm 
was  carried  to  the  pitch  of  derangement.  Reason  is 
said  to  have  lost  its  balance. 

» 

The  words  and  conduct  of  Jesus  can  be  considered 
extravagant  only  on  the  supposition  that  his  claims, 
his  assertions  respecting  himself,  were  exaggerated. 
His  words  and  actions  were  not  out  of  harmony  with 
these  claims.  It  is  in  these  pretensions,  if  anywhere, 
that  the  proof  of  mental  alienation  must  be  sought. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  teaching  of  Christ,  there  is 
nothing  in  his  actions,  to  countenance  the  notion  that 
lie  was  dazed  and  deluded  by  morbidly  excited  feeling. 
Who  can  read  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  not  be 
impressed  with  the  perfect  sobriety  of  his  temperament? 
Everywhere,  in  discourse  and  dialogue,  there  is  a  vein 
of  deep  reflection.  He  meets  opponents,  and  even 
cavillers,  with  arguments.  When  he  is  moved  to  in¬ 
dignation,  there  is  the  most  complete  self-possession. 
There  is  no  vague  outpouring  of  anger,  as  of  a  torrent 
bursting  its  barriers.  Every  item  in  the  denunciation 
of  the  Pharisees  is  coupled  with  a  distinct  specification 
justifying  it.2  No  single  idea  is  seized  upon  and  mag¬ 
nified  at  the  expense  of  other  truths  of  equal  moment. 
No  one-sided  view  of  human  nature  is  held  up  for 
acceptance.  A  broad,  humane  spirit  pervades  the  pre¬ 
cepts  which  he  uttered.  Asceticism,  the  snare  of  reli¬ 
gious  reformers,  is  foreign  both  to  h  s  teaching  and  his 

1  Yie  de  Jesus,  p.  331. 


2  Matt,  xxiii. 


CHRIST’S  SUPERNATURAL  CALLING. 


133 


example.  Shall  the  predictions  relative  to  the  spread  of 
his  kingdom,  and  to  its  influence  on  the  world  of  man¬ 
kind,  be  attributed  to  a  distempered  fancy?  But  how 
has  history  vindicated  them !  What  is  the  history  of 
the  Christian  ages  but  the  verification  of  that  forecast 
which  Jesus  had  of  the  effect  of  his  work,  brief  though 
it  was?  Men  who  give  up  important  parts  of  the 
Christian  creed  discern,-  nevertheless,  “  the  sweet  rea¬ 
sonableness  ”  which  characterizes  the  teaching,  and, 
equally  so,  the  actions,  of  Jesus.  The  calm  wisdom, 
the  inexhaustible  depth  of  which  becomes  more  and 
more  apparent  as  time  flows  on  —  is  that  the  offspring 
of  a  disordered  brain?  That  penetration  into  human 
nature  which  laid  bare  the  secret  springs  of  action, 
which  knew  men  better  than  they  knew  themselves, 
piercing  through  every  disguise  —  did  that  belong  to 
an  intellect  diseased  ? 

If  we  reject  the  hypothesis  of  mental  alienation,  we 
are  driven  to  the  alternative  of  accepting  the  conscious¬ 
ness  of  Jesus  with  respect  to  his  office  and  calling  as 
veracious,  or  of  attributing  to  him  a  deep  moral  depra¬ 
vation.  He  exalts  himself  above  the  level  of  mankind. 
He  places  himself  on  an  eminence  inaccessible  to  all 
other  mortals.  He  conceives  himself  to  stand  in  a  rela¬ 
tion  both  to  God  and  to  the  human  race  to  which  no 
other  human  being  can  aspire.  It  would  be  the  wild¬ 
est  dream  for  any  other  human  being  to  imagine  him¬ 
self  to  be  possessed  of  the  prerogatives  which  Jesus 
quietly  assumes  to  exercise.  Is  this  mere  assumption? 
What  an  amount  of  self-ignorance  does  it  not  involve  ! 
What  self-exaggeration  is  implied  in  it !  If  moral  rec¬ 
titude  contains  the  least  guaranty  of  self-knowledge, 
if  purity  of  character  tends  to  make  a  man  know  him¬ 
self,  and  guard  himself  from  seizing  on  an  elevation 


i34  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


that  does  not  belong  to  him,  then  what  shall  be  said  of 
him  who  is  guilty  of  self-deification,  or  of  what  is 
almost  equivalent?  On  the  contrary,  the  holiness  of 
Jesus,  if  he  was  holy,  is  a  ground  for  giving  credence 
to  his  convictions  respecting  himself. 

If  there  is  good  reason  to  conclude  that  Jesus  was  a 
sinless  man,  there  is  an  equal  reason  for  believing  in 
him.  It  has  been  said,  even  by  individuals  among  the 
defenders  of  the  faith,  that,  independently  of  miracles, 
his  perfect  sinlessness  cannot  be  established.  “  But 
where,”  writes  Dr.  Mozley,  “  is  the  proof  of  perfect  sin¬ 
lessness?  No  outward  life  and  conduct  could  prove 
this,  because  goodness  depends  on  the  inward  motive, 
and  the  perfection  of  the  inward  motive  is  not  proved 
by  the  outward  act.  Exactly  the  same  act  may  be 
perfect  or  imperfect,  according  to  the  spirit  of  the  doer. 
The  same  language  of  indignation  against  the  wicked 
which  issues  from  our  Lord’s  mouth  might  be  uttered 
by  an  imperfect  good  man  who  mixed  human  frailty 
with  the  emotion.”  1  The  importance  of  miracles  as  the 
counterpart  and  complement  of  evidence  of  a  different 
nature  is  not  questioned.  It  is  not  denied,  that  if,  by 
proof,  demonstration  is  meant,  such  proof  of  the  sinless¬ 
ness  of  Jesus  is  precluded.  Reasoning  on  such  a  matter 
is,  of  course,  probable.  Nevertheless,  it  may  be  fully 
convincing.  How  do  we  judge,  respecting  any  one  whom 
we  well  know,  whether  he  possesses  one  trait  of  char¬ 
acter,  or  lacks  another?  How  do  we  form  a  decided 
opinion,  in  many  cases,  with  regard  to  the  motives  of  a 
particular  act,  or  in  respect  to  his  habitual  temper  ?  It 
is  by  processes  of  inference  precisely  similar  to  those  by 
which  we  conclude  that  J esus  was  pure  and  holy.  There 
are  indications  of  perfect  purity  and  holiness  which 

1  Mozley,  Lectures  on  Miracles,  p.  11. 


CHRIST’S  SUPERNATURAL  CALLING. 


135 


exclude  rational  doubt  upon  the  point.  Tliere  are 
phenomena,  positive  and  negative,  which  presuppose 
sinless  perfection,  which  baffle  explanation  on  any  other 
hypothesis.  If  there  are  facts  which  it  is  impossible  to 
account  for,  in  case  moral  fault  is  admitted  to  exist,  then 
Hie  existence  of  moral  fault  is  disproved. 

It  may  be  thought  that  we  are  at  least  disabled  frcm 
proving  the  sinlessness  of  Jesus  until  we  have  first  es¬ 
tablished  the  ordinary  belief  as  to  the  origin  of  the 
Gospels.  This  idea  is  also  a  mistake.  Our  impression 
of  the  character  of  Christ  results  from  a  great  number 
of  incidents  and  conversations  recorded  of  him.  The 
data  of  the  tradition  are  miscellaneous,  multiform.  If 
there  had  been  matter,  which,  if  handed  down,  would 
have  tended  to  an  estimate  of  Jesus  in  the  smallest 
degree  less  favorable  than  is  deducible  from  the  tradi¬ 
tion  as  it  stands,  who  was  competent,  even  if  anybody 
had  been  disposed,  to  eliminate  it?  What  disciples, 
earlier  or  later,  had  the  keenness  of  moral  discernment 
which  would  have  been  requisite  in  order  thus  to  sift 
the  evangelic  narrative  ?  Something,  to  say  the  least,  — 
some  words,  some  actions,  or  omissions  to  act,  —  would 
have  been  left  to  stain  the  fair  picture.  Moreover,  the 
conception  of  the  character  of  Jesus  which  grows  up 
in  the  mind  on  a  perusal  of  the  gospel  records  has  a 
unity,  a  harmony,  a  unique  individuality,  a  verisimili¬ 
tude.  This  proves  that  the  narrative  passages  which 
call  forth  this  image  in  the  reader’s  mind  are  substan¬ 
tially  faithful.  The  characteristics  of  Jesus  which  are 
collected  from  them  must  have  belonged  to  an  actual 
person. 

In  an  exhaustive  argument  for  the  sinlessness  of 
Jesus,  one  point  would  be  the  impression  which  his 
character  made  on  others.  What  were  the  reproaches 


136  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


of  liis  enemies  ?  If  there  were  faults,  vulnerable  places, 
his  enemies  would  find  them  out.  But  the  things 
which  they  laid  to  his  charge  are  virtues.  Pie  associ¬ 
ated  with  the  poor  and  with  evil-doers.  But  this  was 
from  love,  and  from  a  desire  to  do  them  good.  He  was 
willing  to  do  good  on  the  sabbath ;  that  is,  he  was  not 
a  slave  to  ceremony.  He  honored  the  spirit,  not  the 
letter,  of  law.  He  did  not  bow  to  the  authority  of 
pretenders  to  superior  sanctity.  Leaving  out  of  view 
his  claim  to  be  the  Christ,  we  cannot  think  of  a  single 
accusation  that  does  not  redound  to  his  credit.  There 
is  no  reason  to  distrust  the  evangelic  tradition,  which 
tells  us  that  a  thief  at  his  side  on  the  cross  was  struck 
with  his  innocence,  and  said,  “  This  man  hath  done 
nothing  amiss.”  The  centurion  exclaimed,  “  Truly, 
this  was  a  righteous  man !  ”  Since  the  narratives  do 
not  conceal  the  insults  offered  to  Jesus  by  the  Roman 
soldiers,  and  the  scoffs  of  one  of  the  malefactors,  there  is 
no  ground  for  ascribing  to  invention  the  incidents  last 
mentioned.  But  what  impression  was  made  as  to  his 
character  on  the  company  of  his  intimate  associates? 
They  were  not  obtuse,  unthinking  followers.  They 
often  wondered  that  he  did  not  take  a  different  way  of 
founding  his  kingdom,  and  spoke  out  their  dissatis¬ 
faction.  They  were  not  incapable  observers  and  critics 
of  character.  Peculiarities  that  must  have  excited 
their  surprise,  they  frankly  related;  as  that  he  wept, 
was  at  times  physically  exhausted,  prayed  in  an  agony 
of  supplication.  These  circumstances  must  have  come 
from  the  original  reporters.  It  is  certain,  that,  had 
they  marked  any  thing  in  Jesus  which  was  indicative 
of  moral  infirmity,  the  spell  that  bound  them  to  him 
would  have  been  broken.  Their  faith  in  him  would 
have  been  dissolved.  It  is  certain  that  in  the  closest 


CHRIST’S  SUPERNATURAL  CALLING. 


137 


association  with  him,  in  private  and  in  public,  they 
were  more  and  more  struck  with  his  faultless  excel¬ 
lence.  They  parted  from  him  at  last  with  the  unani¬ 
mous,  undoubting  conviction  that  not  the  faintest  stain 
of  moral  guilt  rested  on  his  spirit.  He  was  immacu¬ 
late.  This  was  a  part  of  their  preaching.  Without 
that  conviction  on  their  part,  Christianity  never  could 
Lave  gained  a  foothold  on  the  earth. 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  dwell  on  that  marvellous 
unison  of  virtues  in  the  character  of  J esus,  —  virtues 
often  apparently  contrasted.  It  was  not  piety  without 
philanthropy,  or  philanthropy  without  piety,  but  both 
in  the  closest  union.  It  was  love  to  God  and  love  to 
man,  each  in  perfection,  and  both  forming  one  spirit. 
It  was  not  compassion  alone,  unqualified  by  the  senti¬ 
ment  of  justice ;  nor  was  it  rectitude,  austere,  unpity¬ 
ing.  It  was  compassion  and  justice,  the  spirit  of  love 
and  the  spirit  of  truth,  neither  clashing  with  the  other. 
There  was  a  prevailing  concern  for  the  soul  and  the 
life  to  come,  but  no  cynical  indifference  to  human  suf¬ 
fering  and  well-being  now.  There  was  courage  that 
quailed  before  no  adversary,  but  without  the  least 
ingredient  of  false  daring,  and  observant  of  the  limits 
of  prudence.  There  was  a  dignity  which  needed  no 
exterior  prop  to  uphold  it,  yet  was  mixed  with  a  sweet 
humility.  There  was  rebuke  for  the  proudest,  a  relent¬ 
less  unmasking  of  sanctimonious  oppressors  of  the  poor, 
and  the  gentlest  words  for  the  child  or  the  suffering 
in  valid. 

There  is  one  fact  which  ought  to  remove  every 
shadow  of  doubt  as  to  the  absolute  sinlessness  of  Jesus. 
Let  this  fact  be  thoroughly  pondered.  He  was  utterly 
free  from  self-accusation,  from  the  consciousness  of 
fault ;  whereas,  had  there  been  a  failure  in  duty,  hia 


138  THE  GROUNDS  OF  1HEISTIC  AND  CHRIS1IAN  BELIEF. 

sense  of  guilt  would  have  been  intense  and  overwhelm¬ 
ing.  This  must  have  been  the  case  had  there  been 
only  a  single  lapse,  —  one  instance,  even  in  thought,  of 
infidelity  to  God  and  conscience.  But  no  such  offence 
could  have  existed  by  itself :  it  would  have  tainted  the 
character.  Sin  does  not  come  and  disappear,  like  a 
passing  cloud.  Sin  is  never  a  microscopic  taint.  Sin  is 
self-propagating.  Its  first  step  is  a  fall  and  the  begin¬ 
ning  of  a  bondage.  We  reiterate  that  a  consciousness 
of  moral  defect  in  such  an  one  as  we  know  that  Jesus 
was,  and  as  he  is  universally  conceded  to  have  been, 
must  infallibly  have  betrayed  itself  in  the  clearest 
manifestations  of  conscious  guilt,  of  penitence  or  of 
remorse.  The  extreme  delicacy  of  his  moral  sense  is 
perfectly  obvious.  His  moral  criticism  goes  down  to 
the  secret  recesses  of  the  heart.  He  demands,  be  it 
observed,  self-judgment :  “First  cast  the  beam  out  of 
thine  own  eye;”  “Judge  not.”  His  condemnation  of 
moral  evil  is  utterly  unsparing :  the  very  roots  of  it 
in  illicit  desire  are  to  be  extirpated.  He  knows  how 
sinful  men  are.  He  teaches  them  all  to  pray,  “  Forgive 
us  our  debts ;  ”  yet  there  is  not  a  scintilla  of  evidence 
that  he  ever  felt  the  need  of  offering  that  prayer  for 
himself.  From  beginning  to  end  there  is  not  a  lisp  of 
self-blame.  He  prays  often,  he  needs  help  from  above  ; 
but  there  is  no  confession  of  personal  unworthiness. 
Men  generally  are  reminded  of  their  sins  when  they  are 
overtaken  by  calamity.  The  ejaculations  of  Jesus  in 
the  presence  of  his  intimate  associates,  when  he  was 
sinking  under  the  burden  of  mental  sorrow,  are  trans¬ 
mitted, —  and  there  is  no  appearance  whatever  of  a 
disposition  on  the  part  of  disciples  to  cloak  his  mental 
experiences,  or  misrepresent  them,  —  but  not  the  slight¬ 
est  consciousness  of  error  is  betrayed  in  these  sponta- 


CHRIST’S  SUPERNATURAL  CALLING. 


*  189 


neous  outpourings  of  the  soul.  “  His  was  a  piety  with 
no  consciousness  of  sin,  and  no  profession  of  repent¬ 
ance.”  1 

Let  the  reader  contrast  this  unbroken  peace  of  con¬ 
science  with  the  self-chastisement  of  an  uprigL  t  spirit 
which  has  become  alive  to  the  obligations  of  divine  ]aw, 
—  the  same  law  that  Jesus  inculcated.  “  Oh  wretched 
man  that  I  am !  ”  No  language  short  of  this  corre¬ 
sponds  to  the  abject  distress  of  Paul.  There  are  no 
bounds  to  his  self-abasement :  he  is  “  the  chief  of  sin¬ 
ners.”  The  burden  of  self-condemnation  is  too  heavy 
for  such  conscientious  minds  to  carry.  Had  the  will  of 
Jesus  ever  succumbed  to  the  tempter,  had  moral  evil 
ever  found  entrance  into  his  heart,  is  it  possible  that 
his  humiliation  would  have  been  less,  or  less  manifest  ? 
That  serene  self-approbation  would  have  fled  from  his 
soul.  Had  the  Great  Teacher,  whose  words  are  a  kind 
of  audible  conscience  ever  attending  us,  and  are  more 
powerful  than  any  thing  else  to  quicken  the  sense  of 
obligation  —  had  he  so  little  moral  sensibility  as  falsely 
to  acquit  himself  of  blame  before  God  ?  It  is  psycho¬ 
logically  impossible  that  he  should  have  been  blame¬ 
worthy  without  knowing  it,  without  feeling  it  with 
crushing  distinctness  and  vividness,  and  without  exhib¬ 
iting  penitence,  or  remorse  and  shame,  in  the  plainest 
manner.  There  was  no  such  consciousness,  there  was  no 
such  expression  of  guilt.  Therefore  he  was  without  sin. 

We  have  said  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  evangelic 
tradition  to  imply  the  faintest  consciousness  of  moral 
evil  in  the  mind  of  Jesus.  A  single  passage  has  been 
by  some  falsely  construed  as  containing  such  an  impli¬ 
cation.  It  may  be  worth  while  to  notice  it.  To  the 
ruler  who  inquired  what  he  should  do  to  secure  eternal 

1  "W.  M.  Taylor,  D.D.,  The  Gospel  Miracles,  etc.,  p.  50. 


140  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


life,  Jesus  is  said  to  have  answered,  “Why  callest 
thou  me  good?  there  is  none  good  but  one,  that  is, 
God.” 1  There  is  another  reading  of  the  passage  in 
Matthew,  which  is  adopted  by  Tischendorf:  “Why 
askest  thou  me  concerning  the  good  ?  There  is  one,” 
etc.2  This  answer  is  not  unsuitable  to  the  question, 
“  What  good  thing  shall  I  do  ?  ”  It  points  the  inquirer 
to  God.  It  is  fitted  to  suggest  that  goodness  is  not  in 
particular  doings,  but  begins  in  a  connecting  of  the  soul 
with  God.  We  cannot  be  certain,  however,  whether 
Jesus  made  exactly  this  response,  or  said  what  is  given 
in  the  parallel  passages  in  Mark  and  Luke  (and  in  the 
accepted  text  of  Matthew).  If  the  latter  hypothesis 
is  correct,  it  is  still  plain  that  the  design  of  Jesus  was  to 
direct  the  inquirer  to  God,  whose  will  is  the  fountain 
of  law.  He  disclaims  the  epithet  “good,”  and  applies 
it  to  God  alone,  meaning  that  God  is  the  primal  source 
of  all  goodness.  Such  an  expression  is  in  full  accord 
with  the  usual  language  of  Jesus  descriptive  of  his 
dependence  on  God.  The  goodness  of  Jesus,  though 
without  spot  or  flaw,  was  progressive  in  its  develop¬ 
ment;  and  this  distinction  from  the  absolute  goodness 
of  God  might  justify  the  phraseology  which  he  em¬ 
ployed.3  The  humility  which  Jesus  evinced  in  his  reply 
to  the  ruler  was  not  that  of  an  offender  against  the 
divine  law.  Its  ground  was  totally  diverse. 

There  is  a  single  occurrence  narrated  in  the  fourth 
Gospel,  which  may  be  appropriately  referred  to  in  this 
place.4  Jesus  said,  “I  go  not  up  to  this  feast:”  the 
“yet”  in  the  Authorized  Version  probably  forms  no 
part  of  the  text.  “But  when  his  brethren  were  gone 

1  Matt.  xix.  17,  cf.  Mark  x.  18  ;  Luke  xviii.  19. 

2  Tc  /me  epwTas  uepl  rou  ayaOov  ; 

•  See  Weiss,  Matthausevangelium,  ad  loc.  4  John  vii.  8, 10,  14. 


CHRIST’S  SUPERNATURAL  CALLING. 


141 


up,  then  went  he  also  up,  not  openly,  but,  as  it  were, 
in  secret.”  Can  anybody  think  that  the  author  of  the 
Gospel,  whoever  he  was,  understands,  and  means  that 
his  readers  shall  infer,  that  the  first  statement  to  the 
brethren  was  an  intentional  untruth  ?  It  is  possible 
that  new  considerations,  not  mentioned  in  the  brief 
narration,  induced  Jesus  to  alter  his  purpose.  This  is, 
for  instance,  the  opinion  of  Meyer.1  He  may  have 
waited  for  a  divine  intimation,  which  came  sooner  than 
it  was  looked  for.2  It  is  even  possible  that  the  ex¬ 
pression,  “  I  go  not  up,”  etc.,  may  have  been  under¬ 
stood  to  signify  simply  that  he  would  not  accompany 
the  festal  caravan,  and  thus  make  prematurely  a  public 
demonstration  adapted  to  rouse  and  combine  his  adver¬ 
saries.  In  fact,  he  did  not  show  himself  at  Jerusalem 
until  the  first  part  of  the  feast  was  over.  It  is  not 
unlikely  that  he  travelled  over  Samaria.  u  My  time,” 
he  had  said  to  his  brethren,  “  is  not  yet  full  come.” 

Complaints  have  been  made  of  the  severity  of  his 
denunciation  of  the  Pharisees.  Theodore  Parker  has 
given  voice  to  this  criticism.  It  is  just  these  passages, 
however,  and  such  as  these,  which  save  Christianity 
from  the  stigma  cast  upon  it  by  the  patronizing  critics 
who  style  it  “  a  sweet  Galilean  vision,”  and  find  in  it 
nothing  but  a  solace  “  for  tender  and  weary  souls.”  3  It 
is  no  fault  in  the  teaching  of  Jesus  that  in  it  right¬ 
eousness  speaks  out  in  trumpet-tones.  There  is  no 
unseemly  passion,  but  there  is  no  sentimentalism.  Hy¬ 
pocrisy  and  cruelty  are  painted  in  their  proper  colors. 
That  retribution  is  stored  up  for  the  iniquity  which 

1  Evang.  Johannis,  ad  loc. 

2  Cf.  vers.  6,  7,  and  ii.  4.  So  Weiss,  in  Meyer's  Komm,  tiber  daa 
Evang.  Johann.,  p.  310. 

8  See  Renan,  English  Conferences,  and  passim. 


142  1  HE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


steels  itself  against  the  motives  to  reform  is  a  part  of 
the  gospel  which  no  right-minded  man  would  wish 
to  blot  out:  it  is  a  truth  too  clearly  manifest  in  the 
constitution  of  things,  too  deeply  graven  on  the  con¬ 
sciences  of  men.  The  spotless  excellence  of  Jesus 
needs  no  vindication  against  objections  of  this  nature. 

W ere  it  possible  to  believe,  that  apart  from  the  blind- 
ing,  misleading  influence  of  a  perverse  character,  so 
monstrous  an  idea  respecting  himself  —  supposing  it  to 
be  false  —  gained  a  lodgement  in  the  mind  of  Jesus, 
the  effect  must  have  been  a  steady,  rapid  moral  deteri¬ 
oration.  False  pretensions,  self-exalting  claims,  even 
when  there  is  no  deliberate  insincerity  in  the  assertion 
of  them,  distort  the  perceptions.  They  kindle  pride 
and  other  unhealthy  passions.  The  career  of  Moham¬ 
med,  from  the  time  when  he  set  up  to  be  a  prophet, 
illustrates  the  downward  course  of  one  whose  soul  is 
possessed  by  a  false  persuasion  of  this  sort.  When  the 
bounds  that  limit  the  rights  of  an  individual  in  relation 
to  his  fellow-men  are  broken  through,  degeneracy  of 
character  follows.  His  head  is  turned.  He  seeks  to 
hold  a  sceptre  that  is  unlawfully  grasped,  to  exercise  a 
prerogative  to  which  his  powers  are  not  adapted.  Sim¬ 
plicity  of  feeling,  self-restraint,  respect  for  the  equal 
rights  of  others,  genuine  fear  of  God,  gradually  die 
out. 

If  it  be  supposed  that  Jesus,  as  the  result  of  morbid 
enthusiasm,  falsely  thought  himself  the  representa¬ 
tive  of  God,  and  the  Lord  and  Redeemer  of  mankind, 
experience  would  have  dispelled  so  vain  a  dream.  It 
might,  perhaps,  have  subsisted  in  the  first  flush  of 
apparent,  transient  success.  But  defeat,  failure,  the 
desertion  of  supporters,  will  often  awaken  distrust, 
even  in  a  cause  which  is  true  and  just.  How  would  it 


CHRIST’S  SUPERNATURAL  CALLING. 


148 


have  been  with  the  professed  Messiah  when  the  leaders 
of  Church  and  State  poured  derision  on  his  claims? 
How  would  it  have  been  when  liis  own  neighbors, 
among  whom  he  had  grown  up,  chased  him  from  the 
town  ?  how  when  the  people  who  had  flocked  after 
him  for  a  while,  turned  away  in  disbelief,  when  his 
own  disciples  betrayed  or  denied  him,  when  ruin  and 
disgrace  were  heaped  upon  his  cause,  when  he  was 
brought  face  to  face  with  death?  How  would  he  have 
felt  when  the  crown  of  thorns  was  put  on  his  head? 
when,  in  mockery,  a  gorgeous  robe  was  put  on  him? 
What  an  ordeal  to  pass  through  was  that !  Would  the 
dream  of  enthusiasm  have  survived  all  this?  Would 
not  this  high-wrought  self-confidence  have  collapsed? 
Savonarola,  when  he  stood  in  the  pulpit  of  St.  Mark’s, 
with  the  eager  multitude  before  him,  and  was  excited 
by  his  own  eloquence,  seemed  to  himself  to  foresee, 
and  ventured  to  foretell,  specific  events.  But  in  the 
coolness  and  calm  of  his  cell  he  had  doubts  about  the 
reality  of  his  own  power  of  prediction.  Hence,  when 
tortured  on  the  rack,  he  could  not  conscientiously  affirm 
that  his  prophetic  utterances  were  inspired  of  God. 
He  might  think  so  at  certain  moments ;  but  there  came 
the  ordeal  of  sober  reflection,  there  came  the  ordeal  of 
suffering  ;  and  under  this  trial  his  own  faith  in  himself 
was  to  this  extent  dissipated. 

The  depth  and  sincerity  of  the  conviction  which  Jesus 
entertained  respecting  himself  endured  a  test  even  more 
severe  than  that  of  an  ignominious  failure,  and  the 
pains  of  the  cross.  He  saw  clearly  that  he  was  putting 
others  in  mortal  jeopardy.1  The  same  ostracism,  scorn, 
and  malice  awaited  those  who  had  attached  themselves 
to  his  person,  and  were  prominently  identified  with  his 

1  Matt,  x  17,  18,  36  ;  Mark  x.  39  ;  John  xvi.  2. 


144  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 


cause.  Their  families  would  cast  them  off;  the  rulers 
of  Church  and  State  would  harass  them  without  pity ; 
to  kill  them  would  be  counted  a  service  rendered  to 
God.  A  man  must  be  in  his  heart  of  hearts  persuaded 
of  the  justice  of  a  cause  before  he  can  make  up  his 
mind  to  die  for  it;  but,  if  he  have  a  spark  of  right 
feeling  in  him,  he  must  be  convinced  in  his  inmost  soul 
before  he  consents  to  involve  the  innocent  and  trustful 
follower  in  the  ruin  which  he  foresees  to  be  coming  on 
himself.  It  must  not  be  forgotten,  that,  from  the  begin¬ 
ning  of  the  public  life  of  Jesus  to  his  last  breath,  the 
question  of  the  reality  of  his  pretensions  was  definitely 
before  him.  He  could  not  escape  from  it  for  a  moment. 
It  confronted  him  at  every  turn.  The  question  was, 
should  men  believe  in  him.  The  strength  of  his  belief 
in  himself  was  thus  continually  tested.  It  was  a  sub¬ 
ject  of  debate  with  disbelievers.  On  one  occasion  — 
the  historical  reality  of  the  occurrence  no  one  doubts  — 
he  called  together  his  disciples,  and  inquired  of  them 
what  idea  was  entertained  respecting  him  by  the  peo¬ 
ple.1  He  heard  their  answer.  Then  he  questioned 
them  concerning  their  own  conviction  on  this  subject. 
One  feels  that  his  mood  could  not  be  more  thoughtful, 
more  deliberate.  The  declaration  of  faith  oy  Peter, 
he  pronounces  to  be  a  rock.  It  is  an  immovable  foun¬ 
dation,  on  which  he  will  erect  an  indestructible  com¬ 
munity.  If  Jesus  persevered  in  the  assertion  of  a 
groundless  pretension,  it  was  not  for  the  reason  that  it 
was  unchallenged.  It  was  not  cherished  because  there 
were  few  inclined  to  dispute  it.  He  was  not  led  to 
maintain  it  from  want  of  reflection. 

The  foregoing  considerations,  it  is  believed,  are  suf¬ 
ficient  to  show  that  the  abiding  conviction  in  the  mind 


i  Matt.  -Kvi.  13-21. 


CHRIST’S  SUFERN  ATURAL  CALLING. 


145 


of  Jesus  respecting  liis  own  mission  and  authority  is 
inexplicable,  except  on  the  supposition  of  its  truth. 
There  was  no  moral  evil  to  cloud  his  self-discernment. 
The  bias  of  no  selfish  impulse  warped  his  estimate  of 
himself.  His  conviction  respecting  his  calling  and 
office  remained  unshaken  under  the  sternest  trials. 

II.  The  sinlessness  of  Jesus  is  in  its  probative  force 
equivalent  to  a  miracle  ;  it  establishes  his  supernatural 
mission ;  it  proves  his  exceptional  relation  to  God. 

We  are  now  to  contemplate  the  sinlessness  of  Jesus 
from  another  point  of  view,  as  an  event  having  a  mirac¬ 
ulous  character,  and  as  thus  directly  attesting  his  claims, 
or  the  validity  of  his  consciousness,  of  a  supernatural 
connection  with  God. 

Sin  is  the  disharmony  of  the  will  with  the  law  of  uni¬ 
versal  love.  This  law  is  one  in  its  essence,  but  branches 
out  in  two  directions,  —  as  love  supreme  to  God,  and 
equal  or  impartial  love  to  men.  We  have  no  call  here 
to  investigate  the  origin  of  sin.  It  is  the  universality 
of  sin  in  the  world  of  mankind  which  is  the  postulate  of 
the  argument.  Sin  varies  indefinitely  in  kind  and 
degree.  But  sinfulness  in  its  generic  character  is  an 
attribute  of  the  human  family.  Rarely  is  a  human 
being  to  be  found  in  whom  no  distinct  fault  of  a  moral 
nature  is  plainly  discernible.  There  may  be  here  and 
there  a  person  whose  days  have  been  spent  in  the  seclu¬ 
sion  of  domestic  life,  under  Christian  influences,  without 
any  such  explicit  manifestation  of  evil  as  arrests  atten¬ 
tion,  and  calls  for  censure.  Occasionally  there  is  a  man 
in  whom,  even  though  he  mingles  in  the  active  work  of 
life,  his  associates  find  nothing  to  blame.  But,  in  these 
extremely  infrequent  instances  of  lives  without  any  ap¬ 
parent  blemish,  the  individuals  themselves  who  are  thus 
remarkable  are  the  last  to  join  in  the  favorable  verdict. 


146  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

That  sensitiveness  of  conscience  which  accompanies 
pure  character  recognizes  and  deplores  the  presence  of 
sin.  If  there  are  not  positive  offences,  there  are  defects: 
things  are  left  undone  which  ought  to  be  done.  If  there 
are  no  definite  habits  of  feeling  to  be  condemned,  there 
is  a  conscious  lack  of  a  due  energy  of  holy  principle. 
In  those  who  are  deemed,  and  justly  deemed,  the  most 
virtuous,  and  in  whom  there  is  no  tendency  to  morbid 
self-depreciation,  there  are  deep  feelings  of  penitence. 
“If  we  say  that  we  have  no  sin,  we  deceive  ourselves, 
and  the  truth  is  not  in  us.”  1  This  is  quoted  here,  not 
as  being  an  authoritative  testimony,  but  as  the  utterance 
of  one  whose  standard  of  character  was  obviously  the 
highest.  With  such  an  ideal  of  human  perfection, 
the  very  thought  that  any  man  should  consider  himself 
sinless  excites  indignation.  One  who  pronounces  him¬ 
self  blameless  before  God  proves  that  falsehood,  and 
not  truth,  governs  his  judgment. 

What  shall  be  said,  then,  if  there  be  One  of  whom  it 
can  truly  be  affirmed,  that  every  motive  of  his  heart,  not 
less  than  every  overt  action,  was  exactly  confirmed  to 
the  loftiest  ideal  of  excellence,  —  One  in  whom  there 
was  never  the  faintest  self-condemnation,  or  the  least 
ground  for  such  an  emotion  ?  There  is  a  miracle ;  not, 
indeed,  on  the  same  plane  as  miracles  which  interrupt 
the  sequences  of  natural  law.  It  is  an  event  in  another 
order  of  things  than  the  material  sphere.  But  it  is 
equally  an  exception  to  all  human  experience.  It  is 
equally  to  all  who  discern  the  fact  a  proclamation  of 
the  immediate  presence  of  God.  It  is  equally  an  attes¬ 
tation  that  He  who  is  thus  marked  out  in  distinction 
from  all  other  mem1  ers  of  the  race  bears  a  divine  com¬ 
mission.  There  is  a  break  in  the  uniform  course  of 


1  1  John  i.  8 


CHRIST’S  SUPERNATURAL  CALLING. 


147 


things,  to  which  no  cause  can  be  assigned  in  the  natural 
order.  Such  a  phenomenon  authorizes  the  same  infer¬ 
ence  as  that  which  is  drawn  from  the  instantaneous 
cure,  by  a  word,  of  a  man  born  blind. 

On  this  eminence  He  stands  who  called  himself  the 
Son  of  man.  It  is  not  claimed  that  this  peculiarity  of 
itself  proves  the  divinity  of  Jesus.  This  would  be  a 
larger  conclusion  than  the  premises  justify.  But  the 
inference  is  unavoidable,  first,  that  his  relation  to  God 
is  altogether  peculiar,  and,  secondly,  that  his  testimony 
respecting  himself  has  the  attestation  of  a  miracle. 
That  testimony  must  be  on  all  hands  allowed  to  have 
included  the  claim  to  be  the  authoritative  Guide  and 
the  Saviour  of  mankind. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST  INDEPENDENTLY 

OF  SPECIAL  INQUIRY  INTO  THE  AUTHORSHIP  OF 

THE  GOSPELS. 

The  reader  will  bear  in  mind  that  we  are  reasoning, 
for  the  present,  on  the  basis  of  the  view  respecting  the 
origin  of  the  Gospels  which  is  commonly  taken  by 
critics  of  the  sceptical  schools.  Let  it  be  assumed  that 
more  than  one  of  the  Gospels  resulted  from  an  expan¬ 
sion  of  earlier  documents  which  included  a  less  amount 
of  matter ;  that  the  traditions  which  are  collected  in  the 
Gospels  of  the  canon  are  of  unequal  value  ;  and  that  all 
of  these  books  first  saw  the  light  in  their  present  form 
somewhere  in  the  course  of  the  second  century.  Still 
it  is  maintained,  that,  even  on  this  hypothesis,  the  main 
facts  at  the  foundation  of  the  Christian  faith  can  be 
established.  In  this  chapter  it  is  proposed  to  bring 
forward  evidence  to  prove  that  miracles  were  wrought 
by  Jesus  substantially  as  related  by  the  evangelists. 

I.  The  fact  that  the  apostles  themselves  professed  to 
work  miracles  by  a  poAver  derived  from  Christ  makes 
it  highly  probable  that  they  believed  miracles  to  have 
been  wrought  by  him. 

The  point  to  be  shown  is,  that  narratives  of  miracles 
performed  by  Christ  were  embraced  in  the  accounts 
which  the  apostles  were  in  the  habit  of  giving  of  his 
life.  A  presumptive  proof  of  this  proposition  is  drawn 

from  the  circumstance  that  they  themselves,  in  fulfill- 
148 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 


149 


mg  the  office  to  which  they  were  appointed  by  him, 
professed  to  work  miracles,  and  considered  this  an  in¬ 
dispensable  criterion  of  their  divine  mission.  There  is 
no  doubt  of  the  fact  as  here  stated.  Few  scholars  now 
hold  that  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  was  written  by 
Paul.  Some  follow  an  ancient  opinion,  which  Grotius 
held,  and  to  which  Calvin  was  inclined,  —  that  Luke 
wrote  it.  Others  attribute  it  to  Barnabas.  Many  are 
disposed,  with  Luther,  to  consider  Apollos  its  author. 
It  is  a  question  which  we  have  no  occasion  to  discuss 
here.  The  date  of  the  Epistle  is  the  only  point  that 
,  oncerns  us  at  present.  It  was  used  by  Clement  of 
Rome  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  and  therefore 
must  have  existed  as  early  as  A.D.  97.  A  majority 
of  critics,  including  adherents  of  opposite  creeds  in 
theology,  infer,  from  passages  in  the  Epistle  itself,  that 
the  temple  at  Jerusalem  was  still  standing  when  it  was 
written.1  Hilgenfeld,  the  ablest  representative  of  the 
Tubingen  school,  is  of  opinion  that  Apollos  wrote  it 
before  A.D.  67.2  Be  this  as  it  may,  its  author  was  a 
contemporary  and  acquaintance  of  the  apostles.3  Now, 
he  tells  us  that  their  supernatural  mission  was  con¬ 
firmed  by  the  miracles  which  they  did :  “  God  also  bear¬ 
ing  them  witness,  both  with  signs  and  wonders,  and  with 
divers  miracles,  and  gifts  of  the  Holy  Ghost.”4  The 
same  thing  is  repeatedly  asserted  by  the  Apostle  Paul. 
“Working  miracles  among  you”  6  is  the  phrase  which 
he  uses  when  speaking  of  what  he  himself  had  done 
in  Galatia.  If  we  give  to  the  preposition,  as  perhaps 
we  should,  its  literal  sense  “in,”  the  meaning  is,  that 
the  apostle  had  imparted  to  his  converts  the  power 


1  See  Heb.  vii.  9,  viii.  3,  ix.  4. 

«  Heb.  ii.  3. 

®  evepyujv  SvvdfJLeis  ev  vfj.lv ,  Gal.  Hi.  5. 


2  Einl.  in  d.  N.  Test.*  p.  388. 
4  Ibid.,  ver.  5. 


150  THE  GROUNDS  OF  TIIEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


to  work  miracles.1  In  the  Epistle  to  the  Homans  he 
explicitly  refers  to  u  the  mighty  signs  and  wonders” 
which  Christ  had  wrought  by  him :  it  was  by  “  deed,” 
as  well  as  by  word,  that  he  had  succeeded  in  convincing 
a  multitude  of  brethren.2  Plow,  indeed,  we  might  stop 
to  ask,  could  such  an  effect  have  been  produced  at  that 
time  in  the  heathen  world  by  “  word”  alone  ?  But  in 
the  Second  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians  he  reminds  them 
that  miracles  —  “signs  and  wonders  and  mighty  deeds” 
—  had  been  wrought  by  him  before  their  eyes  ;  and  he 
calls  them  “  the  signs,”  not  of  an  apostle,  as  the  Author¬ 
ized  Version  has  it,  but  of  “the  apostle.”3  They  are 
the  credentials  of  the  apostolic  office.  By  these  an 
apostle  is  known  to  be  what  he  professes  to  be.  In 
working  miracles  he  had  exhibited  the  characteristic 
marks  of  an  apostle.  The  author  of  the  book  of  Acts, 
then,  goes  no  farther  than  Paul  himself  goes,  when  that 
author  ascribes  to  the  apostles  “  many  wonders  and 
signs.”4  It  is  in  the  highest  degree  probable,  in  the 
light  of  the  passages  quoted  from  Paul,  that,  if  he  and 
Barnabas  were  vindicating  themselves  and  their  work, 
they  would  declare,  as  the  author  of  Acts  affirms  they 
did,  “what  miracles  and  wonders  God  had  wrought 
among  the  Gentiles  by  them.”5  Now  we  advance 
another  step.  In  each  of  the  first  three  Gospels  the 
direction  to  work  miracles  forms  a  part  of  the  brief 
commission  given  by  Christ  to  the  apostles.6  If  the 
apostles  could  remember  any  thing  correctly,  would  they 
forget  the  terms  of  this  brief,  momentous  charge  from 
the  Master  ?  This,  if  any  thing,  would  be  handed  down 
in  an  authentic  form.  In  the  charge  when  the  apostles 

1  Cf.  Lightfoot  and  Meyer,  ad  loc.  2  Rom.  xv.  18-20. 

8  2  Cor.  xii.  12.  4  Acts  ii.  43,  cf.  iv.  30,  v.  12,  xiv.  3. 

6  Acts  xv.  12,  cf.  ver.  4. 

•  Matt.  x.  1,  8 ;  Mark  iii.  15,  Lake  ix.  2  ;  cf.  Luke  x.  9. 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 


161 


were  first  sent  out,  as  it  is  given  in  Matthew,  they  were 
to  limit  their  labors  to  the  Jews,  —  to  u  the  lost  sheep 
of  the  house  of  Israel.”  They  were  not  even  to  go  at 
that  time  to  the  Samaritans.  This  injunction  is  a  strong 
confirmation  of  the  exactness  of  the  report  in  the  first 
evangelist.  Coupling  the  known  fact,  that  the  working 
of  miracles  was  considered  by  the  apostles  a  distinguish¬ 
ing  sign  of  their  office,  with  the  united  testimony  of 
the  first  three  Gospels,  —  the  Gospels  in  which  the  ap¬ 
pointment  of  the  Twelve  is  recorded,  —  it  may  be  safely 
concluded  that  J esus  did  tell  them  to  “  heal  the  sick, 
cleanse  the  lepers,  raise  the  dead,  cast  out  devils.”  He 
told  them  to  preach,  and  to  verify  their  authority  as 
teachers  by  this  merciful  exertion  of  powers  greater 
than  belong  to  man.  Is  it  probable  that  he  expected 
them  to  furnish  proofs  of  a  kind  which  he  had  not  fur¬ 
nished  himself?  Did  he  direct  them  to  do  what  they 
had  never  seen  him  do  ?  Did  he  profess  to  communi¬ 
cate  to  his  apostles  a  power  which  he  had  given  them 
no  evidence  of  possessing? 

II.  Injunctions  of  Jesus  not  to  report  his  miracles, 
it  is  evident,  are  truthfully  imputed  to  him  ;  and  this 
proves  that  the  events  to  which  they  relate  actually 
took  place. 

It  is  frequently  said  in  the  Gospels,  that  Jesus  en¬ 
joined  upon  those  whom  he  miraculously  healed  not  to 
make  it  publicly  known.1  He  was  anxious  that  the 
miracle  should  not  be  noised  abroad.  For  instance,  it 
is  said  in  Mark,  that  in  the  neighborhood  of  Bethsaida 
he  sent  home  a  blind  man  whom  he  had  cured,  saying, 
“  Neither  go  into  the  town,  nor  tell  it  to  any  in  the 
town.” 2  The  motive  is  plainly  indicated.  Jesus  had 

1  Matt.  ix.  30,  xii.  16,  xvii.  9  ;  Mark  iii.  12,  v.  43,  vii.  36,  viii.  26 
lx.  9 ;  Luke  v.  14,  viii.  56.  2  Mark  viii.  26. 


152  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


to  guard  against  a  popular  uprising,  than  which  noth¬ 
ing  was  easier  to  provoke  among  the  inflammable 
population  of  Galilee.  There  were  times,  it  costs  no 
effort  to  believe,  when  they  were  eager  to  make  him 
a  king.1  He  had  to  conceal  himself  from  the  multi¬ 
tude.  He  had  to  withdraw  into  retired  placf  s.  It  was 
necessary  for  him  to  recast  utterly  the  popular  concep¬ 
tion  of  the  Messiah,  and  this  was  a  slow  and  almost 
impossible  task.  It  was  hard  to  educate  even  the  dis¬ 
ciples  out  of  the  old  prepossession.  Hence  he  used 
great  reserve  and  caution  in  announcing  himself  as  the 
Messiah.  He  made  himself  known  by  degrees.  When 
Peter  uttered  his  glowing  confession  of  faith,  Jesus 
charged  him  and  his  companions  “  that  they  should  tell 
no  man  of  him  ;  ”  that  is,  they  should  keep  to  them¬ 
selves  their  knowledge  that  he  was  the  Christ.2  The 
interdict  against  publishing  abroad  his  miracles  is 
therefore  quite  in  keeping  with  a  portion  of  the  evan¬ 
gelic  tradition  that  is  indubitably  authentic.  On  the 
other  hand,  such  an  interdict  is  a  thing  which  it  would 
occur  to  nobody  to  invent.  It  is  the  last  thing  which 
contrivers  of  miraculous  tales  (unless  they  had  before 
them  the  model  of  the  Gospels)  would  be  likely  to 
imagine.  No  plausible  motive  can  be  thought  of  for 
attributing  falsely  such  injunctions  to  Jesus,  unless  it 
is  assumed  that  there  was  a  desire  to  account  for  the 
alleged  miracles  not  being  more  widely  known.  But 
this  would  imply  intentional  falsehood  in  the  first  nar¬ 
rators,  whoever  they  were.  Even  this  supposition,  in 
itself  most  unlikely,  is  completely  shut  out,  because 
the  prohibitions  are  generally  said  to  have  proved  in¬ 
effectual.  It  is  commonly  added  in  the  Gospels,  that  the 
individuals  who  were  healed  of  their  maladies  did  not 

1  John  vi  15  2  Mark  viii.  30  ;  Luke  ix.  21. 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST.  153 

heed  them,  but  blazed  abroad  the  fact  of  their  miracu¬ 
lous  cure.  Since  the  injunctions  imposing  silence  are 
authentic,  the  miracles,  without  which  they  are  mean¬ 
ingless,  must  have  been  wrought.  It  is  worthy  of  note, 
that,  when  the  maniac  of  Gadara  was  restored  to  health, 
Jesus  did  not  lay  this  commandment  on  him.  He  sent 
him  to  his  home,  bidding  him  tell  his  friends  of  his 
experience  of  the  mercy  of  God.1  Connected  with  the 
narratives  of  miracles,  both  before  and  just  after  in 
the  same  chapter,2  we  find  the  usual  charge  not  to  tell 
what  had  been  done.  Why  not  in  this  instance  of  the 
madman  of  Gadara  ?  The  reason  would  seem  to  have 
been,  that,  in  that  region  where  Jesus  had  not  taught, 
and  where  he  did  not  purpose  to  remain,  the  same  dan¬ 
ger  from  publicity  did  not  exist.  To  be  sure,  the  man 
was  not  told  “  to  publish  ”  the  miracle  “  in  Decapolis,”  as 
he  proceeded  to  do ;  but  no  pains  were  taken  to  prevent 
him  from  doing  this.  He  was  left  at  liberty  to  act  in  this 
respect  as  he  pleased.  The  evangelist  does  not  call  our 
attention  in  any  way  to  this  peculiarity  of  the  Gadara 
miracle.  It  is  thus  an  undesigned  confirmation  of  the 
truth  of  the  narrative,  and  at  the  same  time  of  the 
other  narratives  with  which  the  injunction  to  observe 
silence  is  connected. 

III.  Cautions,  plainly  authentic,  against  an  excessive 
esteem  of  miracles,  are  a  proof  that  they  were  actually 
wrought. 

No  one  who  falsely  sets  up  to  be  a  miracle-worker 
seeks  to  lower  the  popular  esteem  of  miracles.  Such 
a  one  never  chides  the  wonder-loving  spirit.  The 
same  is  equally  true  of  those  who  imagine  or  otherwise 
fabricate  stories  of  miracles.  The  moods  of  mind  out 
of  which  fictions  of  this  kind  are  hatched  are  incom- 


1  Mark  v.  19. 


2  Mark  iii.  12,  v.  43. 


154  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF: 


patible  with  any  thing  like  a  disparagement  of  miracles. 
The  tendency  will  be  to  make  as  much  of  them  as  pos¬ 
sible.  Now,  the  Gospel  records  represent  Christ  as 
taking  the  opposite  course :  “  Except  ye  see  signs  and 
wonders,  ye  will  not  believe.”  1  This  implies  that  there 
were  higher  grounds  of  faith.  It  is  an  expression  of 
blame.  “  Believe  me  that  I  am  in  the  Father,  and  the 
Father  in  me  :  or  else  believe  me  for  the  very  works’ 
sake.” 2  That  is,  if  you  cannot  take  my  word  for  it, 
then  let  the  miracles  convince  you.  It  would  almost 
seem  that  Christ  performed  his  miracles  under  a  pro¬ 
test.  He  refused  to  do  a  miracle  where  there  was  not 
a  germ  of  faith  beforehand.  In  the  first  three  Gospels 
there  is  the  same  relative  estimate  of  miracles  as  in  the 
fourth.  If  men  form  an  opinion  about  the  weather 
by  the  looks  of  the  sky,  they  ought  to  be  convinced  by 
“  the  signs  of  the  times,”  in  which,  if  the  miracles  are 
included,  it  is  only  as  one  element  in  the  collective 
manifestation  of  Christ.3  When  the  seventy  disciples 
returned  full  of  joy  that  they  had  not  only  been  able  to 
heal  the  sick,  but  also  to  deliver  demoniacs  from  their 
distress,4  —  which  had  not  been  explicitly  promised 
them  when  they  went  forth,  — Jesus  sympathized  with 
their  joy  :  he  beheld  before  his  mind’s  eye  the  swift 
downfall  of  the  dominating  spirit  of  evil,  and  he  assured 
the  disciples  that  further  miraculous  power  should  be 
given  to  them.  But  he  added,  “  Notwithstanding,  in 
this  rejoice  not  that  the  spirits  are  subject  unto  you  ; 
but  rather  rejoice,  because  your  names  are  written  in 
heaven.”  They  were  not  to  plume  themselves  on  the 
supernatural  power  exercised,  or  to  be  exercised,  by 
them.  They  were  not  to  make  it  a  ground  of  self-corn 

i  John  iv.  48.  2  John  xiv.  11.  8  Matt.  xvi.  3. 

4  Such  is  the  force  of  the  ko.1  (in  the  <al  rd  Sainovia,  etc.),  Luke  x.  17 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST.  155 

giatulation.  These  statements  of  Jesns,  be  it  ob¬ 
served,  for  the  reasons  stated  above  verify  themselves 
as  authentic.  And  they  presuppose  the  reality  oi  the 
miracles.  They  show,  it  may  be  added,  that  the  disci¬ 
ples  were  trained  by  Jesus  not  to  indulge  a  wonder- 
loving  spirit,  and  thus  guarded  against  this  source  of 
self-deception. 

IV.  Teaching  of  Jesus  which  is  evidently  genuine 
is  inseparable  from  certain  miracles :  in  ’other  words, 
the  miracles  cannot  be  dissected  out  of  authentic  teach¬ 
ing  and  incidents  with  which  they  are  connected  in  the 
narrative.  A  few  illustrations  will  prove  this  to  be 
the  case. 

(1)  John  the  Baptist,  being  then  in  prison,  sent  two 
of  his  disciples  to  ask  Jesus  if  he  was  indeed  the 
Messiah.1  A  doubt  had  sprung  up  in  his  mind.  This 
is  an  incident  which  nobody  would  have  invented.  In 
proof  of  this,  it  is  enough  to  say  that  an  effort  has  been 
made,  by  commentators  who  have  caught  up  a  sugges¬ 
tion  of  Origen,  to  explain  away  the  fact.  It  has  been 
conjectured  that  the  message  was  probably  to  satisfy 
some  of  John’s  doubting  disciples.  There  is  not  a 
word  in  the  narrative  to  countenance  this  view.  It  is 
excluded  by  the  message  which  the  disciples  were  to 
carry  from  Christ  to  John:  “  Blessed  is  he  whosoever 
shall  not  be  offended  in  me.”  That  is,  blessed  is  the 
man  who  is  not  led  to  disbelieve  because  the  course 
that  I  take  does  not  answer  to  his  ideal  of  the  Messiah. 
There  is  no  reason  to  think  that  John’s  mind  was  free 
from  those  more  or  less  sensuous  anticipations  con¬ 
cerning  Christ  and  his  kingdom  which  the  apostles, 
even  after  they  had  long  been  with  Jesus,  had  not 
shaken  off.  He  had  foretold  that  the  Messiah  was  to 


1  Matt.  xi.  4  ;  Luke  vii.  22 . 


156  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEIST1C  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


have  a  “  fan  in  his  hand,”  was  to  “  gather  his  wheat 
into  the  garner,”  and  to  “  burn  up  the  chaff.” 1  He  was 
perplexed  that  Jesus  took  no  more  decisive  step,  that 
no  great  overturning  had  come.  Was  Jesus,  after  all, 
the  Messiah  himself,  or  a  precursor  ?  If,  in  his  prison 
there,  the  faith  of  John  for  the  moment  faltered,  it  was 
nothing  worse  than  was  true  of  Moses  and  Elijah,  the 
greatest  of  the  old  prophets.  The  commendation  of 
John  which  Jesus  uttered  in  the  hearing  of  the  by¬ 
standers,  immediately  after  he  had  sent  back  the  disci¬ 
ples,  was  probably  designed  to  efface  any  impression 
derogatory  to  the  Baptist  which  might  have  been  left 
on  their  minds.  This  eulogy  is  another  corroboration 
of  the  truth  of  the  narrative.  The  same  is  true  of  his 
closing  words :  “  Notwithstanding,  he  that  is  least  in 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  greater  than  he.”  They 
suggest  the  limit  of  John’s  insight  into  the  nature  of 
the  kingdom.  It  is  an  unquestionable  fact,  therefore, 
that  the  inquiry  was  sent  by  John.  Nor  is  it  denied 
that  Jesus  returned  the  following  answer:  “  Go  and 
show  John  again  those  things  which  ye  do  hear  and 
see :  the  blind  receive  their  sight,  and  the  lame  walk, 
the  lepers  are  cleansed,  and  the  deaf  hear,  the  dead  are 
raised  up,  and  the  poor  have  the  gospel  preached  to 
them.”  The  messengers  were  to  describe  to  John  the 
miracles  which  Jesus  was  doing,  —  Luke  expressly  adds 
that  they  themselves  were  witnesses  of  them,  —  and  to 
assure  him,  that,  in  addition  to  these  signs  of  the  Messi¬ 
anic  era  which  Isaiah  had  predicted,2  to  the  poor  the 
good  news  of  the  speedy  advent  of  the  kingdom  were 
proclaimed.  The  message  of  Jesus  had  no  ambiguity. 
It  meant  what  the  evangelists  understood  it  to  mean. 
The  idea  that  he  was  merely  using  symbols  to  denote 

1  Matt.  iii.  12.  2  Isa.  xxxv.  5,  6. 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 


157 


the  spiritual  effect  of  his  preaching  is  a  mere  subter¬ 
fuge  of  interpreters  who  cannot  otherwise  get  rid  of 
the  necessity  of  admitting  the  fact  of  miracles.  What 
sort  of  satisfaction  would  it  have  given  John,  in  the 
state  of  mind  in  which  he  then  was,  to  be  assured  sim¬ 
ply  that  the  teaching  of  Jesus  was  causing  great  pleas¬ 
ure,  and  doing  a  great  deal  of  good  ?  The  same,  or 
almost  as  much,  he  knew  to  be  true  of  his  own  preach¬ 
ing.  What  he  needed  to  learn,  and  what  he  did  learn 
from  his  messengers,  was,  that  the  miracles  of  which  he 
had  heard  were  really  done,  and  to  be  reminded  of 
their  significance. 

(2)  The  Gospels  record  several  controversies  of  Jesus 
with  over-rigid  observers  of  the  sabbath.  They  found 
fault  with  him  for  laxness  in  this  particular.  On  one 
occasion  he  is  said  to  have  met  a  reproach  of  this  kind 
with  the  retort,  “  Which  of  you  shall  have  an  ass  or  an 
ox  fallen  into  a  pit,  and  will  not  straightway  pull  him 
out  on  the  sabbath  day?”1  It  has  been  said  of  the 
books  written  by  the  companions  of  Napoleon  at  St. 
Helena,  that  it  is  not  difficult  to  mark  off  what  he 
really  said ;  his  sa}dngs  having  a  recognizable  style  of 
their  own.  They  who  maintain  that  a  like  distinction 
is  to  be  drawn  in  the  Gospels  among  the  reported 
sayings  of  Christ  have  to  concede  that  he  uttered  the 
words  above  quoted.  They  are  characteristic  words. 
Even  Strauss  holds  that  they  were  spoken  by  him.  If 
so,  on  what  occasion?  Luke  says  that  it  was  on  the 
occasion  of  Christ’s  healing  a  man  who  had  the  dropsy. 
There  must  have  been  a  rescue  from  some  evil.  The 
evil  must  have  been  a  very  serious  one :  otherwise 
the  parable  of  the  ox  or  the  ass  falling  into  a  pit  would 
be  out  of  place.  What  more  proof  is  wanted  of  the 


1  Luke  xiv.  5. 


158  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

correctness  of  the  evangelic  tradition,  and  thus  of  the 
miracle  ?  On  another  sabbath  he  is  said  to  have  cured 
a  woman,  who,  from  a  muscular  disorder,  had  been 
bowed  down  for  eighteen  years.  His  reply  to  his  cen¬ 
sors  is  equally  characteristic.1  If  the  reply  was  made, 
the  miracle  that  occasioned  it  was  done.  On  still 
another  occasion  of  the  same  kind  he  added  to  the 
illustration  of  a  sheep  falling  into  a  pit  the  significant 
question,  “  How  much,  then,  is  a  man  better  than  a 
sheep?”2  If  he  uttered  these  words,  then  he  healed 
a  man  with  a  withered  hand.  Unless  he  had  just 
saved  a  man  from  some  grievous  peril,  the  question  is 
meaningless. 

(8)  In  Matthew,  Mark,  and  Luke  it  is  related  that 
Jesus  was  charged  by  the  Pharisees  with  casting  out 
demons  through  the  help  of  Beelzebub  their  prince.3 
The  conversation  that  ensued  upon  this  accusation  is 
given.  Jesus  exposed  the  absurdity  of  the  charge. 
It  implied  that  Satan  was  working  against  himself, 
and  for  the  subversion  of  his  own  kingdom :  “  If  a 
house  be  divided  against  itself,  that  house  cannot 
stand.”4  The  conversation  is  stamped  with  internal 
marks  of  authenticity.  The  fact  of  this  charge  having 
been  made  against  Christ  was  inwrought  into  the  evan¬ 
gelic  tradition.  Now,'  the  occasion  of  the  debate  was 
the  cure  of  a  man  who  was  blind  and  dumb.  The 
reader  may  consider  demoniacal  possession  to  be  a  lit¬ 
eral  fact,  or  nothing  more  than  a  popular  idea  or  theory: 
in  either  case  the  phenomena  —  epilepsy,  lunacy,  etc.  — 
were  what  presented  themselves  to  observation.  It 
may  be  said  that  the  Jews  had  exorcists.  Jesus  implies 
this  when  he  asks,  “  By  whom  do  your  children  ”  — 

1  Luke  xiii.  15.  2  Matt.  xii.  12. 

•  Matt.  xii.  22-31;  Mark  iii.  22-31;  Luke  xi.  14-23. 


4  Mark  iii.  25. 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 


1 


that  is,  your  disciples  —  “cast  them  out?”  Yet  the 
cures  of  this  sort  which  were  effected  by  Christ  must 
have  included  aggravated  cases  of  mental  and  physical 
disorder,  or  they  must  have  been  wrought  with  a  uni¬ 
formity  which  distinguished  them  from  similar  relief 
administered  by  others  through  the  medium  of  prayer 
and  fasting.  There  was  an  evident  contrast  between 
the  power  exerted  by  him  in  such  cases  and  that  with 
which  the  Pharisees  were  acquainted.  This  is  implied 
in  the  astonishment  which  this  class  of  miracles  is  rep¬ 
resented  to  have  called  forth.  It  is  implied,  also,  in  the 
fact  that  the  accusation  of  a  league  with  Satan  was 
brought  against  him.  They  had  to  assert  this,  or  else 
admit  that  it  was  “with  the  finger  of  God”  that  he 
cast  out  devils.1  “  He  commanded  the  unclean  spirits, 
and  they  obeyed  him.” 

(4)  We  find  both  in  Matthew  and  Luke  a  passage 
in  which  woes  are  pronounced  against  certain  cities  of 
Galilee  for  remaining  impenitent.2  There  is  no  reason 
for  doubting  that  they  were  uttered  by  Jesus.  There 
is  a  question  as  to  the  time  when  they  were  uttered, 
unless  it  be  assumed  that  they  wrere  spoken  on  two  dif¬ 
ferent  occasions ;  but  that  chronological  question  is 
immaterial  here.  The  authenticity  of  the  tradition  is 
confirmed,  if  confirmation  were  required,  by  the  men¬ 
tion  of  Bethsaida  and  Chorazin.  No  account  of  mira¬ 
cles  wrought  in  these  towns  is  embraced  in  either  of 
the  Gospels.3  Had  the  passage  been  put  into  the 
mouth  of  Jesus  falsely,  there  would  naturally  have 
been  framed  a  narrative  to  match  it.  There  would 
have  stood  in  connection  with  it  a  description,  briefer 

1  Luke  xi.  20.  2  Matt.  xi.  20-25  ;  Luke  x.  13-16. 

8  The  Bethsaida  of  Mark  viii.  22  was  another  place,  north-east  of  tbf 

lake. 


160  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


or  longer,  of  miracles  alleged  to  have  been  done  in 
those  towns.  Moreover,  “in  that  same  hour,”  accord¬ 
ing  to  the  first  Gospel,  Jesus  uttered  a  fervent  thanks¬ 
giving  that  the  truth,  hidden  from  the  wise,  had  been 
revealed  to  the  simple-hearted,1  —  a  passage  that  needs 
no  vindication  of  its  authenticity.  This  outpouring 
of  emotion  is  a  natural  sequel  to  the  sorrowful  impres¬ 
sion  made  on  him  by  the  obduracy  of  the  Galilean 
cities.  In  Luke  there  is  the  same  succession  of  moods 
of  feeling,  although  the  juxtaposition  of  the  two  pas¬ 
sages  is  not  quite  so  close.  Now,  what  is  the  ground  of 
this  condemnation  of  Capernaum,  Chorazin,  and  Beth- 
saida?  It  is  “the  mighty  works”  which  they  had  wit¬ 
nessed.  This  privilege  makes  their  guilt  more  heinous 
than  that  of  Tyre  and  Sidon.  It  is  the  reference  to 
the  miracles  which  gives  point  to  the  denunciation. 

(5)  The  manner  in  which  faith  appears  as  the  con¬ 
comitant  and  prerequisite  of  miracles  is  a  strong  confir¬ 
mation  of  the  evangelical  narratives.  Faith  is  required 
of  the  apostles  for  the  performance  of  miraculous  works. 
They  fail  in  the  attempt  from  lack  of  faith.2  They  are 
told,  that  with  faith  nothing  is  beyond  their  power. 
But  it  is  not  their  own  strength  which  they  are  to 
exert.  They  lay  hold  of  the  power  of  God,  and  in 
that  power  they  control  the  forces  of  nature.  So  ap¬ 
plicants  for  miraculous  help  must  come  to  Jesus  with 
faith  in  his  ability  to  relieve  them.  The  exertion 
of  his  restorative  power  is  in  response  to  trust.  The 
references  to  faith  as  thus  connected  with  miracles  are 
numerous.  They  are  varied  in  form,  obviously  artless 
and  uncontrived.  They  are  an  undesigned  voucher  for 
the  truth  of  the  narratives  in  which  they  mingle.3 

1  Matt.  xi.  25-28.  2  Mark  ix.  18;  Luke  ix.  40. 

8  See  Matt.  viii.  10  (Luke  vii.  9),  ix.  2  (Mark  ii.  5  ;  Luke  v.  20),  ix 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 


161 


(6)  In  connection  with  one  miracle  there  is  instruc¬ 
tion  as  to  its  design  which  it  is  difficult  to  believe  did 
not  emanate  from  Jesus.  It  is  embedded  in  the  heart 
of  the  narrative,  as  it  was  an  essential  part  of  the  trans¬ 
action.1  He  is  in  a  house  at  Capernaum  surrounded 
by  a  crowd.  A  paralytic  is  brought  by  four  men,  and 
is  let  down  through  the  roof,  this  being  the  only  means 
of  bringing  him  near  Jesus.  Seeing  their  faith,  he  said 
tenderly  to  the  paralytic,  “  Son  (or  child),  be  of  good 
courage :  thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee.”  The  disease,  we 
are  led  to  infer,  was  the  result  of  sin,  it  may  be  of  sen¬ 
suality.  The  sufferer’s  pain  of  heart  Jesus  first  sought 
to  assuage.  It  was  the  first  step  toward  his  cure. 
These  words  struck  the  scribes  who  heard  them  as  blas¬ 
phemous.  Jesus  divined  their  thoughts,  and  asked 
them  which  is  the  easier  to  say,  “  Thy  sins  be  forgiven 
thee,”  or  “  Arise  and  walk  ?  ”  If  one  presupposed 
divine  power,  so  did  the  other.  Then  follows  the  state¬ 
ment  :  “  That  ye  may  know  that  the  Son  of  man  hath 
power  on  earth  to  forgive  sins”  —  here  he  turned  to 
the  paralytic  —  “  Arise,  take  up  thy  bed,  and  go  unto 
thine  house.”  The  entire  narrative  is  replete  with 
the  marks  of  truth ;  but  this  one  observation,  defining 
the  motive  of  the  miracle,  making  it  subordinate  to  the 
higher  end  of  verifying  his  authority  to  grant  spiritual 
blessings,  carries  in  it  evident  marks  of  authenticity. 
Did  not  Jesus  say  this?  If  he  did,  he  performed  the 
miracle. 

Y.  The  fact  that  no  miracles  are  attributed  to  John 
the  Baptist  should  convince  one  that  the  miracles  at¬ 
tributed  to  Jesus  were  actually  performed. 

22  (Mark  v.  34,  x.  52),  xvii.  20  (Luke  xvii.  6)  ;  Luke  viii.  48,  xvii.  19 ; 
Matt.  xv.  28  ;  Luke  vii.  50,  xviii.  42  ;  Mark  v.  3G,  ix.  23  ;  Matt.  viii.  13 ; 
John  iv.  60,  ix.  38  ;  Acts  iii.  16,  xiv.  9. 

1  Mark  ii.  10  ;  cf.  Matt.  ix.  6  ;  Luke  v.  24. 


162  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


In  the  Gospels,  John  is  regarded  as  a  prophet  inferior 
to  no  other.  His  career  is  described.  Great  stress  is 
laid  on  his  testimony  to  Jesus.  Why,  then,  are  no 
miracles  ascribed  to  him  ?  They  would  have  served  to 
corroborate  his  testimony.  If  there  was  a  propensity  in 
the  first  disciples,  or  their  successors,  to  imagine  mira¬ 
cles  where  there  were  none,  why  are  no  fabrications  of 
this  sort  interwoven  with  the  story  of  John’s  preaching? 
They  had  before  them  the  life  of  his  prototype,  Elijah, 
and  the  record  of  the  miracles  done  by  him.  What 
(except  a  regard  for  truth)  hindered  them  from  min¬ 
gling  in  the  story  of  the  forerunner  of  Jesus  occurrences 
equally  wonderful  ?  Why  do  we  not  read  that  one  day 
he  responded  to  the  entreaty  of  a  poor  blind  man  by 
restoring  his  sight,  that  on  another  occasion  he  gave 
back  to  a  widow  the  life  of  her  son,  that  at  a  certain 
time  a  woman  who  had  been  for  years  a  helpless  invalid 
was  immediately  cured  by  a  word  from  the  prophet, 
that  the  diseased  were  often  brought  to  him  by  their 
friends  to  be  healed  ?  The  only  answer,  is  that  the 
Gospel  narratives  are  not  the  product  of  imagination. 
They  give  the  events  that  actually  took  place. 

YI.  It  is  equally  difficult  for  sceptical  criticism  to 
explain  why  no  miracles  are  ascribed  to  Jesus  prior  to 
his  public  ministry.  Why  should  the  imagination  of 
the  early  Christians  have  stopped  short  at  his  baptism  ? 
Why  did  not  fancy  run  back,  after  the  manner  of  the 
apocryphal  fictions,  over  the  period  that  preceded  ?  A 
definite  date  Is  assigned  for  the  beginning  of  his  miracu¬ 
lous  agency.  Fancy  and  fraud  do  not  curb  themselves 
in  this  way. 

VII.  The  persistence  of  the  faith  of  the  apostles  in 
Jesus  as  the  Messiah,  and  of  his  faith  in  himself,  admits 
of  no  satisfactory  explanation  when  the  miracles  are 
denied. 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 


163 


How  were  the  apostles  to  be  convinced  that  he  waa 
the  promised,  expected  Messiah  ?  What  were  the  evi¬ 
dences  of  it  ?  He  took  a  course  opposite  to  that  which 
they  expected  the  Messiah  to  take.  He  planned  no 
political  change.  He  enjoined  meekness  and  patience, 
lie  held  out  to  them  the  prospect  of  persecution  and 
death  as  the  penalty  of  adhering  to  him.  Where  waa 
the  national  deliverance  which  they  had  confidently 
anticipated  that  the  Messiah  would  effect?  How  in¬ 
tangible,  compared  with  their  sanguine  hopes,  was  the 
good  which  he  sought  to  impart !  Moreover,  they  heard 
his  claims  denied  on  every  side.  The  guides  of  the 
people  in  religion  scorned  or  denounced  them.  Had 
there  been  no  exertions  of  power  to  impress  the  senses, 
and  the  mind  through  the  senses,  it  is  incredible  that 
the  apostles  could  have  believed  in  him,  and  have  clung 
to  him,  in  the  teeth  of  all  the  influences  fitted  to  inspire 
distrust.  We  might  ask  how  Jesus  himself  could  have 
retained  immovable  the  conviction  that  he  was  in  truth 
the  Messiah  of  God,  if  he  found  himself  possessed  of 
no  powers  exceeding  those  of  the  mortals  about  him. 
How  could  he  have  maintained  this  consciousness,  with¬ 
out  the  least  faltering,  when  he  saw  himself  rejected  by 
rulers  and  people,  and  at  length  forsaken  by  his  timid 
disciples  ? 

Strauss  is,  on  the  whole,  the  most  prominent  dis¬ 
believer  in  modern  times  who  has  undertaken  to  re¬ 
construct  the  gospel  history,  leaving  out  the  miracles. 
His  theory  was,  that  the  narratives  of  miracles  are  a 
mythology  spontaneously  spun  out  of  the  imagination 
of  groups  of  early  disciples.  But  what  moved  them  to 
build  up  so  baseless  a  fabric  ?  What  was  the  idea  that 
possessed  the  mind,  and  gave  birth  to  its  unconscious 
fancies.0  Why,  at  the  foundation  of  it  all  was  the  fixed 


164  TIIE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 


expectation  that  the  Messiah  must  be  a  miracle-worker  ? 
The  predictions  of  the  Old  Testament  and  the  example 
of  the  prophets  required  it.  How  was  it,  then,  that, 
in  the  absence  of  this  indispensable  criterion  of  the 
Messianic  office,  these  same  disciples  believed  in  Jesus? 
How  came  he  to  believe  in  himself?  To  these  ques¬ 
tions  the  author  of  the  mythical  theory  could  give  no 
answer  which  does  not  subvert  his  own  hypothesis. 
The  same  cause  which  by  the  supposition  led  to  the 
imagining  of  miracles  that  were  false  must  have  pre¬ 
cluded  faith,  except  on  the  basis  of  miracles  that  were 
true. 

VIII.  In  the  evangelical  tradition  the  miracles  enter 
as  potent  causes  into  the  nexus  of  occurrences.  They 
are  links  which  cannot  be  spared  in  the  chain  of  events. 

Take,  for  example,  the  opening  chapters  of  Mark, 
which  most  critics  at  present  hold  to  be  the  oldest  Gos¬ 
pel.  There  is  an  exceedingly  vivid  picture  of  the  first 
labors  of  Jesus  in  Capernaum  and  its  vicinity.  His 
teaching,  to  be  sure,  thrilled  his  hearers :  “  He  taught 
them  as  one  that  had  authority.”  1  But  the  intense  ex¬ 
citement  of  the  people  was  due  even  more  to  another 
cause.  In  the  synagogue  at  Capernaum  a  demoniac 
interrupted  him  with  loud  cries,  calling  him  “  the  Holy 
One  of  God.”  At  the  word  of  Jesus,  after  uttering  one 
shriek,  the  frenzied  man  became  quiet  and  sane.  The 
mother  of  Peter’s  wife  was  raised  from  a  sick-bed. 
Other  miraculous  cures  followed.  It  was  the  effect 
of  these  upon  the  people  that  obliged  him  to  rise  long 
before  dawn  in  order  to  anticipate  their  coming,  and  to 
escape  to  a  retired  place  for  prayer.  It  was  a  miracle 
wrought  upon  a  leper  that  compelled  Jesus  to  leave  the 
city  for  “  desert  places,”  —  secluded  spots  where  the 


1  Mark  i.  22. 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 


165 


people  would  not  throng  upon  him  in  so  great  num 
bers.1  Very  definite  occurrences  are  traced  to  particu¬ 
lar  causes,  which  are  miraculous  acts  done  by  Christ. 
It  was  the  raising  of  Lazarus  that  determined  the 
Jewish  rulers  to  apprehend  Jesus,  and  put  him  to  death 
The  fact  that  this  event,  in  a  record  which  contains  so 
many  unmistakably  authentic  details,  is  the  point  on 
which  the  subsequent  history  turns,  forced  upon  Renan 
the  conviction  that  there  was  an  apparent  miracle, — 
something  that  was  taken  for  a  miracle, — and  this 
conviction  he  has  not  been  able  to  persuade  himself 
absolutely  to  relinquish.2 

The  miracle  at  Jericho,  which  is  described,  with  some 
diversity  in  the  circumstances,  by  three  of  the  evangel¬ 
ists,  Keim  finds  it  impossible  to  resolve  into  a  fiction. 
He  refers  to  the  fact  that  all  of  the  first  three  Gospels 
record  it.  He  adverts  to  the  fresh  and  vivid  character 
of  the  narratives.  But  the  main  consideration  is  the 
explanation  afforded  of  the  rising  tide  of  enthusiasm  in 
the  people  at  this  time,  of  which  there  is  full  proof. 
But  Keim,  still  reluctant  to  admit  the  supernatural, 
alludes  to  the  popular  excitement  as  quickening  “  the 
vital  and  nervous  forces,”  and  so  restoring  the  impaired 
or  lost  vision  of  the  man  healed.  It  is  intimated  that 
this  access  of  nerve-force,  coupled  with  his  faith,  may 
have  effected  the  cure.3  It  is  found  necessary  to  revert 
to  a  method  of  explanation  which  German  criticism 
had  long  ago  tested  and  discarded.  The  point  which 
concerns  us  here  is  the  reality  of  the  transaction  as  it 
appeared  to  the  spectators.  The  physiological  solution 
may  pass  for  what  it  is  worth.  If  cures  had  been 
effected  in  this  way  by  Jesus,  there  would  have  been 

1  Mark  i.  35,  v.  45.  2  Vie  de  Jesos  (13ivie  ed.),  pp.  507,  524 

8  Gesch.  Jesu  von  Nazara,  vol.  iii.  p.  53. 


166  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


conspicuous  failures,  as  well  as  instances  of  success; 
and  how  would  these  failures  have  affected  the  minds 
of  the  disciples  and  of  other  witnesses  of  them,  not  to 
speak  of  the  mind  of  Jesus  himself?  The  resurrection 
of  Jesus,  more  than  any  other  of  the  miracles,  bridges 
over  an  otherwise  impassable  chasm  in  the  course  of 
events.  We  see  the  disciples,  a  company  of  disheart¬ 
ened  mourners.  Then  we  see  them  on  a  sudden  trans¬ 
formed  into  a  band  of  bold  propagandists  of  the  new 
faith,  ready  to  lay  down  their  lives  for  it.  The  resur¬ 
rection  is  the  event  which  accounts  for  this  marvellous 
change  and  for  the  spread  of  Christianity  which  fol¬ 
lows.  But  this  event  requires  to  be  more  thoroughly 
considered. 

IX.  The  proof  of  the  crowning  miracle -of  Christi¬ 
anity,  the  resurrection  of  Jesus,  cannot  be  successfully 
assailed,  even  were  the  views  of  the  sceptical  school  as 
to  the  origin  of  the  Gospels  well  founded. 

As  we  stand  for  the  moment  on  common  ground  with 
them,  we  cannot  make  use  of  such  an  incident  as  the 
doubt  of  Thomas  and  the  removal  of  it,1  although  this 
incident,  as  well  as  various  other  portions  of  the  fourth 
Gospel,  may  be  historical,  even  if  not  John,  but  a  later 
author,  wrote  the  book.  An  uncertainty  is  thrown  over 
circumstances  relating  to  the  intercourse  of  the  clisciple3 
with  Jesus  after  his  death,  which  are  found  in  the 
Gospels ;  that  is,  prior  to  establishing  the  genuineness 
of  the  Gospels,  it  is  open  to  question  how  far  the  details 
are  faithfully  transmitted  from  the  witnesses.  But,  as 
regards  the  cardinal  fact  of  the  Gospel,  we  have  precious 
evidence  from  an  unimpeachable  source.  The  Apostle 
Paul  stales  with  precision  the  result  of  his  inquiries 
on  the  subject.2  There  were  five  interviews  of  the  dis- 


1  John  xx.  24  -30. 


2  1  Cor.  xv.  4-8. 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 


16? 


eiples  with  the  risen  Jesus,  besides  the  miracle  on  the 
journey  to  Damascus.  Paul  was  converted  A.D.  35, 
four  years  after  the  crucifixion.  In  A.D.  38  he  went 
to  Jerusalem,  and  staid  a  fortnight  with  Peter.  He 
was  conversant  with  the  apostles  and  other  disciples, 
lie  knew  what  their  testimony  was.  From  his  explicit 
statement,  and  from  other  perfectly  conclusive  evidence, 
it  is  certain  that  the  first  of  the  supposed  appearances 
of  Christ  to  the  disciples  was  on  the  morning  of  the 
next  Sunday  after  his  death.  It  was  on  “the  third 
day.”  1  Then  it  was  that  they  believed  themselves  to 
have  irresistible  proof  that  he  had  risen  from  the  tomb. 
Ever  after,  this  was  the  principal  fact  which  they  pro¬ 
claimed,  the  main  foundation  of  their  faith  and  hope. 
The  question  is,  Were  they,  or  were  they  not,  deceived? 
Is  the  church  founded  on  a  fact,  or  on  a  delusion  ?  Did 
Christianity,  which  owes  its  existence  and  spread  to 
this  immovable  conviction  on  the  part  of  the  apostles, 
spring  from  either  a  fraud  or  a  dream  ?  The  notion 
which  once  had  advocates,  that  Christ  did  not  really 
die,  but  revived  from  a  swoon,  is  given  up.  How  could 
he  have  gone  through  the  crucifixion  without  dying? 
What  would  have  been  his  physical  condition,  even  if 
a  spark  of  life  had  remained  ?  If  he  did  not  die  then, 
when  did  he  die  ?  Did  he  and  the  apostles  agree  to  pre¬ 
tend  that  he  had  died?  The  slander  of  the  Jews,  that 
some  of  the  disciples  stole  his  body,  is  not  deserving 
of  consideration.  Why  should  men  make  up  a  story 
which  was  to  bring  them  no  benefit,  but  only  contempt, 
persecution,  and  death?  The  question  what  became 
of  the  body  of  Jesus  is  one  which  disbelievers  in  the 

1  1  Cor.  xv.  4,  cf.  Matt.  xvi.  21,  xvii.  23,  xx.  19,  xxvii.  63,  xxviii. 
1 ;  Mark  viii.  31,  ix.  31,  xiv.  58,  xv.  29,  xvi.  2,  9  ;  Luke  ix.  22,  xiii.  32, 
xviii.  33,  xxiv.  1,  7,  21,  46  ;  John  ii.  19,  xx.  1,  19,  26. 


168  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


resurrection  do  not  satisfactorily  answer.  It  is  not 
doubted  that  the  tomb  was  found  empty.  Jewish  ad-, 
versaries  had  the  strongest  reason  for  producing  the 
body  if  they  knew  where  it  was.  That  would  have* 
destroyed  the  apostles’  testimony  in  a  moment. 

The  only  hypothesis  which  has  any  plausibility  at 
the  present  day,  in  opposition  to  the  Christian  faith,  is 
the  “  vision-theory.”  The  idea  of  it  is,  that  the  apos¬ 
tles  mistook  mental  impressions  for  actual  perceptions. 
Their  belief  in  the  resurrection  was  the  result  of  hal¬ 
lucination.  Some  would  hold  that  Christ  really  mani¬ 
fested  himself  to  them  in  a  miraculous  way,  but  to 
their  souls  only :  he  did  not  come  to  them  visibly  and 
tangibly.  Of  this  theory,  especially  in  the  first  form, 
it  is  to  be  said,  that  responsibility  for  the  delusion  sup¬ 
posed  comes  back  upon  the  founder  of  Christianity 
himself.  Whoever  thinks  that  the  disciples  were  self- 
deceived,  as  Schleiermacher  has  well  said,  not  only  at¬ 
tributes  to  them  a  mental  imbecility  which  would  make 
their  entire  testimony  respecting  Christ  untrustworthy, 
but  implies,  that,  when  Christ  chose  such  witnesses,  he 
did  not  know  what  was  in  man.  Or,  if  Christ  will¬ 
ingly  permitted  or  led  them  to  mistake  an  inward  im¬ 
pression  for  actual  perceptions,  he  is  himself  the  author 
of  error,  and  forfeits  our  moral  respect.1  But  the  vision- 
theory  is  built  up  on  false  assumptions,  and  signally 
fails  to  explain  the  phenomena  in  the  case.  I  shall  not 
here  pause  to  examine  the  affirmation  of  Paul,  that 
he  had  personally  seen  Christ.  This  must  be  observed, 
that  he  distinguishes  that  first  revelation  of  Christ  to 
him  —  which  stopped  him  in  his  career  as  an  inquisi¬ 
tor,  and  made  him  a  new  man  in  his  convictions  and 
aims  —  from  subsequent  “  visions  and  revelations.”  2 

1  Christliclier  Glaube,  vol.  ii.  p.  88.  2  2  Cor.  xii.  1  ;  1  Cor.  ii.  10. 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 


169 


They  were  separated  in  time.  It  was  not  on  them  that 
Paul  professed  to  found  his  claim  to  be  an  apostle.  He 
refers  to  them  for  another  purpose.  The  words  that 
he  heard  in  a  moment  of  ecstasy  — -  whether  “  in  the 
body  or  out  of  the  body  ”  he  could  not  tell  —  he  never 
even  repeated.1  That  sight  of  Jesus  which  was  the 
prelude  of  his  conversion  he  gives  as  the  sixth  and  last 
of  his  appearances  to  the  apostles.  It  was  objective* 
a  disclosure  to  the  senses.  It  was  such  a  perception 
of  Christ,  that  his  resurrection  was  proved  by  it,  —  a 
fact  with  which  the  resurrection  of  believers  is  declared 
to  be  indissolubly  connected.2  Attempts  have  been 
made  to  account  for  Paul’s  conversion  by  referring  it  to 
a  mental  crisis  induced  by  secret  misgivings,  and  lean¬ 
ings  toward  the  faith  which  he  was  striving  to  destroy. 
Some  have  brought  in  a  thunder-clap  or  a  sunstroke  to 
help  on  the  effect  of  the  struggle  supposed  to  be  taking 
place  within  his  soul.  One  trouble  with  this  psycho¬ 
logical  explanation  of  the  miracle  is,  that  the  assump¬ 
tion  of  previous  doubts  and  of  remorseful  feelings  is 
not  only  without  historical  warrant,  but  is  directly  in 
the  teeth  of  Paul’s  own  assertions.3  It  is  not  true, 
however,  that  Paul  implies  in  the  least  that  the  appear¬ 
ances  of  the  risen  Christ  to  the  other  apostles  were  ex 
actly  similar  to  Christ’s  appearance  to  him  on  the  road 
to  Damascus.  His  claim  was  simply  that  he,  too,  had 
seen  Christ.  The  circumstances  might  be  wholly  dif¬ 
ferent  in  his  case.  Jewish  Christians  who  were  hostile 
to  Paul  made  a  point  of  the  difference  between  his 
knowledge  of  Christ  through  visions  and  the  sort  of 

1  2  Cor.  xii.  4,  cf.  Keim,  vol.  iii.  p.  583,  n.  1.  2  1  Cor.  xv.  12-21. 

8  Before  discussing  fully  the  subject  of  Paul’s  conversion,  it  ia 
requisite  to  examine  the  question  of  the  authorship  and  credibility  oi 
the  Acts, 


J.TO  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


knowledge  vouchsafed  to  the  other  apostles.  The  risen 
Christ  whom  these  saw  did  not  speak  to  them  from 
heaven.  They  believed  him  to  be  with  them  on  the 
earth.  He  had  not  yet  ascended.  Ilis  real  or  supposed 
presence  in  the  body  with  them  was  an  essential  part 
of  what  thev  related.  Without  it,  the  whole  idea  of 
the  ascension  was  meaningless.  We  might  go  farther, 
and  say,  that,  in  the  absence  of  decisive  proof  to  the 
contrary,  it  is  to  be  presumed  that  the  accounts  which 
the  apostles  were  in  the  habit  of  giving  of  their  inter¬ 
views  with  the  risen  Jesus  —  facts  so  immeasurably 
important  to  themselves  and  others  —  are  substantially 
preserved  in  the  Gospels.  Why  should  it  be  doubted 
that  at  least  the  essential  nature  of  these  interviews, 
or  of  their  impression  of  them,  about  which  the  Apostle 
Paul  had  so  particularly  inquired,  is  set  forth  by  the 
four  evangelists  ? 

But  the  details  in  the  Gospel  narratives  we  leave 
out  of  account,  for  the  present.  The  main  facts  indis¬ 
putably  embraced  in  the  testimony  of  the  apostles  are 
sufficient.  There  are  criteria  of  hallucination.  If  there 
were  not,  we  should  on  all  occasions  be  at  a  loss  to 
know  when  to  credit  witnesses,  or  even  to  trust  our 
own  senses.  We  have  to  consider,  in  the  first  place, 
the  state  of  mind  into  which  the  apostles  were  thrown 
by  the  crucifixion.  It  was  a  state  of  extreme  sorrow 
and  dejection.  They  were  struck  with  dismay.  Their 
hopes  were  crushed.  Whoever  has  seen  the  dead 
Christ  in  the  famous  painting  of  Rubens  at  Antwerp 
can  imagine  the  feeling  of  the  disciples  when  they 
looked  on  the  terrible  reality.  How  was  it  possible 
for  them  within  a  few  days  —  within  two  days,  in  the 
case  of  some,  if  not  of  all  —  to  recover  from  the 
shock?  How  was  it  possible  that  in  so  short  a  time 


PROOF  OF  TIIE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 


171 


joy  took  the  place  of  grief  and  consternation  ?  W  hence 
came  the  sudden  revival  of  faith,  and  with  it  the  cour¬ 
age  to  go  forth  and  testify,  at  the  risk  of  their  own 
lives,  that  Jesus  was  indeed  the  Messiah?  The  glow¬ 
ing  faith,  rising  to  an  ecstasy  of  peace  and  assurance, 
out  of  which  hallucination  might  spring,  did  not  exist* 
The  necessary  materials  of  illusion  were  absolutely 
wanting.  There  was  no  long  interval  of  silent  brood¬ 
ing  over  the  Master’s  words  and  worth.  The  time  was 
short,  —  a  few  days.  Even  then  there  are  no  traces 
of  any  fever  of  enthusiasm.  The  interviews  with  the 
risen  Christ  are  set  down  in  the  Gospels  in  a  brief, 
calm  way,  without  any  marks  of  bewildering  agitation. 
No,  the  revulsion  of  feeling  must  have  come  from  with¬ 
out.  The  event  that  produced  it  was  no  creation  of  the 
apostles’  minds.  It  took  them  by  surprise.  Secondly, 
the  number  and  variety  of  the  persons  —  five  hundred 
at  once  —  who  constitute  the  witnesses  heighten  the 
difficulty  in  the  way  of  the  hallucination-theory.  Under 
circumstances  so  gloomy  and  disheartening,  how  were 
so  many  persons  —  comprising,  as  they  must  have  com¬ 
prised,  all  varieties  of  temperament  —  transported  by 
the  same  enthusiasm  to  such  a  pitch  of  bewilderment  as 
to  confound  a  mental  image  of  Christ  with  the  verita¬ 
ble,  present  reality?  But,  thirdly,  a  greater  difficulty 
lies  in  the  limited  number  of  the  alleged  appearances 
of  Jesus,  considering  the  state  of  mind  which  must  be 
assumed  to  have  existed  if  the  hallucination-theory  is 
adopted.  Instead  of  five,  the  number  of  those  known 
to  Paul,  there  would  have  been  a  multitude.  This  the 
analogy  of  religious  delusions  authorizes  us  to  assert. 
If  the  five  hundred  collectively  imagined  themselves  to 
see  Christ,  a  great  portion  of  them  would  individually, 
before  and  after,  have  imagined  the  same  thing.  The 


172  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


limited,  carefully  marked,  exactly  recollected  number 
of  the  appearances  of  Jesus  is  a  powerful  argument 
against  the  theory  of  illusion.  Fourthly,  connected  with 
this  last  consideration  is  another  most  impressive  fact. 
There  was  a  limitation  of  time  as  well  as  of  number. 
The  appearances  of  Jesus,  whatever  they  were,  ceased 
in  a  shoit  period.  Why  did  they  not  continue  longer? 
There  were  visions  of  one  kind  and  another  afterward. 
Disbelievers  point  to  these  as  a  proof  of  the  apostles’ 
credulity.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  question  recurs,  Why 
were  there  no  more  visions  of  the  risen  Jesus  to  be 
placed  in  the  same  category  with  those  enumerated  by 
Paul  ?  Stephen’s  vision  was  of  Christ  in  the  heavenly 
world.  In  the  persecutions  recorded  in  Acts,  when 
martyrs  were  perishing,  why  were  there  no  Christopha- 
nies  ?  There  is  not  a  solitary  case  of  an  alleged  actual 
appearance  of  Jesus  on  the  earth  to  disciples,  after  the 
brief  period  which  is  covered  by  the  instances  recorded 
by  Paul  and  the  evangelists.  There  were  those  distinct 
occurrences,  standing  by  themselves,  definitely  marked, 
beginning  at  a  certain  time,  ending  at  a  certain  time,  - 
so  many,  and  no  more. 

We  know  what  the  mood  of  the  apostles  was  from 
the  time  of  these  alleged  interviews  with  the  risen 
Christ.  They  set  about  the  work  of  preaching  the 
gospel  of  the  resurrection,  and  of  founding  the  church. 
There  was  no  more  despondency,  no  more  faltering. 
It  is  undeniable  that  they  are  characterized  by  sobriety 
of  mind,  and  by  a  habit  of  reflection,  without  which, 
indeed,  the  whole  movement  would  quickly  have  come 
to  an  end.  The  controversies  attending  the  martyrdom 
of  Stephen  were  not  more  than  two  years  after  the  death 
of  Jesus.  Then  followed  the  mission  to  the  Jews  and 
to  the  heathen,  the  deliberations  respecting  the  position 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 


173 


to  be  accorded  to  the  Gentile  converts,  and  the  whole 
work  of  organizing  and  training  the  churches.  To  be 
sure,  they  claimed  to  be  guided  by  the  Divine  Spirit. 
Light  was  imparted  to  them,  from  time  to  time,  through 
visions.  Take  what  view  one  will  of  these  phenomena, 
it  is  plain,  that,  on  the  the  whole,  a  discreet,  reflective 
habit  characterized  the  apostles.  This  is  clear  enough 
from  the  Acts,  and  from  the  Epistles,  on  any  view 
respecting  the  credibility  of  these  books  which  critics 
are  disposed  to  take.  Now,  this  reasonableness  and 
sobriety  belonged  to  the  apostles  from  the  first,  or  it 
did  not.  If  it  did,  it  excludes  the  supposition  of  that 
abandonment  to  dreamy  emotion  and  uninquiring  revery 
which  the  hallucination-theory  implies.  If  it  did  not, 
then  it  behooves  the  advocates  of  this  hypothesis  to  tell 
what  it  was  that  suddenly  effected  such  a  change  in 
them.  What  broke  up,  on  a  sudden,  the  mood  of  ex¬ 
citement  and  flightiness  which  engendered  notions  of 
a  fictitious  resurrection  ?  How  was  a  band  of  religious 
dreamers,  not  gradually,  but  in  a  very  short  space  of 
time,  transformed  into  men  of  discretion  and  good 
sense?  Why  did  these  devotees  not  go  on  with  their 
delicious  dreams,  in  which  they  believed  Jesus  to  be 
visibly  at  their  side  ?  The  sudden,  final  termination, 
without  any  outward  cause  producing  it,  of  an  absorb¬ 
ing  religious  enthusiasm  like  that  which  is  imputed 
to  the  apostles  and  to  the  five  hundred  disciples,  is 
without  a  parallel  in  the  history  of  religion. 

It  is  the  force  of  these  considerations  which  compels 
Keim  to  give  up  the  illusion-theory.  “  It  must  be  ac¬ 
knowledged,”  he  says,  “that  this  theory,  which  has 
lately  become  popular,  is  only  an  hypothesis  that  ex¬ 
plains  some  things,  but  does  not  explain  the  main 
thing,  nay,  deals  with  the  historical  facts  from  distorted 


174  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


and  untenable  points  of  view.”  1  “  If  the  visions  are 

not  a  human  product,  not  self-produced  ;  if  they  are  not 
the  blossom  and  fruit  of  a  bewildering  over-excite¬ 
ment  ;  if  they  are  something  strange,  mysterious ;  if 
they  are  accompanied  at  once  with  astonishingly  clear 
perceptions  and  resolves,  —  then  it  remains  to  fall  back 
on  a  source  of  them  not  yet  named :  it  is  God  and  the 
glorified  Christ.”2  Thus  the  cessation  of  the  visions 
at  a  definite  point  can  be  accounted  for.  The  extrane¬ 
ous  power  that  produced  them  ceased  to  do  so.  It  was, 
in  truth,  the  personal  act  and  self-revelation  of  the  de¬ 
parted  Jesus.  Without  this  supernatural  manifestation 
of  himself,  to  convince  his  disciples  that  he  still  lived 
in  a  higher  form  of  being,  his  cause  would,  in  all  proba¬ 
bility,  have  come  to  an  end  at  his  death.  Faith  in  him 
as  Messiah  would  have  vanished,  the  disciples  would 
have  gone  back  to  Judaism  and  the  synagogue,  and 
the  words  of  Jesus  would  have  been  buried  in  the  dust 
of  oblivion.3  A  powerful  impression,  not  originating  in 
themselves,  but  coming  from  without,  from  Christ  him¬ 
self,  alone  prevented  this  catastrophe.  The  admission 
of  a  miracle  is  fairly  extorted  from  this  writer  by  the 
untenableness  of  every  other  solution  that  can  be 
thought  of.  At  the  end  of  a  work  which  is  largely 
taken  up  with  attempts,  direct  or  indirect,  to  disprove 
supernatural  agency,  Keim  finds  himself  driven  by  the 
sheer  pressure  of  the  evidence  to  assert  its  reality,  and 
to  maintain  that  the  very  survival  of  Christianity  in 
the  world  after  the  death  of  Jesus  depended  on  it.  If 
he  still  stumbles  at  the  particular  form  of  the  miracle 
which  the  testimony  obliges  us  to  accept,  yet  the  mira¬ 
cle  of  a  self-manifestation  of  Jesus  to  the  apostles  he 
is  constrained  to  presuppose. 

1  Gesch.  Jesu  von  Nazara,  vol.  iii.  p.  GOO.  a  Ibid.,  p.  602 

»  Ibid.,  p.  605. 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 


1T5 


On  a  question  of  this  kind  historical  evidence  can  go 
no  farther.  When  it  is  declared  by  a  large  number  of 
witnesses  who  have  no  motive  to  deceive,  that  a  certain 
event  took  place  before  their  eyes,  and  when  the  circum¬ 
stances  forbid  the  hypothesis  of  self-deception,  there 
is  no  alternative  but  to  admit  the  reality  of  the  fact. 
The  proof  is  complete.  The  fact  may  still  be  dei  ied 
by  an  unreflecting  incredulity.  It  may  be  affirmed  to 
be  impossible,  or  to  be  under  any  circumstances  incapa¬ 
ble  of  proof.  Against  such  a  position,  testimony,  his¬ 
torical  proof  of  any  sort,  is  powerless.  The  immovable 
faith  of  the  apostles  that  Jesus  “showed  himself  alive 
to  them  ”  is  a  fact  that  nobody  questions.  Without 
that  faith,  Christianity  would  have  died  at  its  birth. 
Whoever  denies  credit  to  their  testimony  ought  to  ex¬ 
plain  in  some  rational  way  the  origin,  strength,  and 
persistence  of  that  faith.  But  this,  as  experiment  has 
proved,  cannot  be  done. 

X.  The  concessions  which  are  extorted  by  the  force 
of  the  evidence  from  the  ablest  disbelievers  in  the  mira¬ 
cles  are  fatal  to  their  own  cause. 

At  the  beginning  of  this  century  the  theory  of 
Paulus,  the  German  Euemerus,  was  brought  forward. 
It  was  the  naturalistic  solution.  The  stories  of  mira¬ 
cles  in  the  New  Testament  were  based  on  facts  which 
were  misunderstood.  There  were  actual  occurrences ; 
but  they  were  looked  at  through  a  mist  of  superstitious 
belief,  and  thus  misinterpreted  and  magnified.  Jesus 
had  a  secret  knowledge  of  potent  remedies,  and  the 
cures  which  he  effected  by  the  application  of  them 
passed  for  miracles.  The  instances  of  raising  the  dead 
were  cases  of  only  apparent  death.  For  example,  Jesus 
saw  that  the  son  of  the  widow  of  Nain  was  not  really 
dead.  Perhaps  the  young  man  opened  his  eyes,  or 


176  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


stirred,  and  thus  discovered  to  Jesus  that  he  was  alive. 
Jesus  mercifully  saved  him  from  a  premature  burial. 
He  did  not  think  himself  called  upon  to  correct  the 
mistaken  judgments  of  the  disciples  and  of  others,  who 
attributed  his  beneficent  acts  to  preternatural  power. 
He  allowed  himself  in  a  tacit  accommodation  to  the 
vulgar  ideas  in  these  matters.  This  theory  was  seri¬ 
ously  advocated  in  learned  tomes.  It  was  applied  in 
detail  in  elaborate  commentaries  on  the  Gospels. 

Strauss  simply  echoed  the  general  verdict  to  which 
all  sensible  and  right-minded  people  had  arrived,  when 
he  scouted  this  attempted  explanation  of  the  Gospel 
narratives,  and  derided  the  exegesis  by  which  it  was 
supported.  The  theory  of  Paulus  made  the  apostles 
fools,  and  Christ  a  Jesuit.  But  the  hypothesis  which 
Strauss  himself  brought  forward,  if  less  ridiculous,  was 
not  a  whit  more  tenable.  Unconscious  myths  generated 
by  communities  of  disciples  who  mistook  their  common 
fancies  for  facts ;  myths  generated  by  bodies  of  disci¬ 
ples  cut  off  from  the  care  and  oversight  of  the  apostles 
who  knew  better ;  by  disciples,  who,  nevertheless,  suc¬ 
ceeded  in  substituting  in  all  the  churches  their  fictitious 
narrative,  in  the  room  of  the  true  narrative,  which  was 
given  by  the  apostles,  —  here  were  improbabilities  which 
prevented  the  mythical  theory  from  gaining  a  foothold 
at  the  bar  of  historical  criticism.  It  was  impossible,  as 
it  has  been  remarked  above,  to  see  how  the  faith  of  the 
myth-making  division  of  disciples  was  produced  at  the 
start.  No  such  class  of  disciples,  cut  off  from  the  super¬ 
intendence  of  the  apostles,  existed.  If  it  be  supposed 
that  such  a  class  of  disciples  did  exist,  the  agents  who 
planted  Christianity  in  the  towns  and  cities  of  the 
Roman  Empire  were  not  from  these,  but  were  the  apos¬ 
tles  and  their  followers.  And  then,  how  could  the 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 


177 


established  tradition  as  to  Christ’s  life  be  superseded 
by  another  narrative,  emanating  from  some  obscure 
source,  and  presenting  a  totally  diverse  conception  from 
that  which  the  apostles,  or  their  pupils,  were  teaching  ? 
So  the  mythical  theory  went  the  way  of  the  naturalistic 
scheme  of  Paulus.  Seeing  his  failure,  Strauss  after¬ 
ward  tried  to  change  the  definition  of  myth,  and  to 
introduce  an  element  of  conscious  invention  into  the 
idea ;  but  in  so  doing  he  destroyed  the  work  of  his  own 
hands. 

Renan  has  undertaken,  in  a  series  of  volumes,  to 
furnish  upon  the  naturalistic  basis  an  elaborate  expla¬ 
nation  of  the  origin  of  Christianity.  In  the  successive 
editions  of  his  Life  of  Jesus  he  has  considered  and  re¬ 
considered  the  problem  of  the  miracles.  What  has  he 
to  say  ?  He  tells  us  that  miracles  at  that  epoch  were 
thought  indispensable  to  the  prophetic  vocation.  The 
legends  of  Elijah  and  Elisha  were  full  of  them.  It  was 
taken  for  granted  that  the  Messiah  would  perform 
many.1  Jesus  believed  that  he  had  a  gift  of  healing. 
He  acquired  repute  as  an  exorcist.2  Nay,  it  is  undenia¬ 
ble  that  “  acts  which  would  now  be  considered  fruits  of 
illusion  or  hallucination  had  a  great  place  in  the  life  of 
Jesus.”  3  The  four  Gospels,  he  holds,  render  this  evident. 
Renan  sees  that  there  is  no  way  of  escaping  the  conclu¬ 
sion  that  miracles  seemed  to  be  wrought,  and  that  they 
were  a  very  marked  feature  in  the  history  as  it  actually 
occurred.  Those  about  Jesus  —  the  entourage  —  were 
probably  more  struck  with  the  miracles  than  with  any 
thing  else.4  How  shall  this  be  accounted  for?  Illusion 
in  the  mind  of  Jesus,  an  exaggerated  idea  of  his  powers, 
will  go  a  little  way  toward  a  solution  of  the  question, 


i  Vie  de  Jesus,  p.  266,  cf.  p.  271. 
*  Ibid.,  p.  277. 


2  Ibid.,  p.  273. 
4  Ibid.,  p.  269. 


178  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


but  does  not  suffice.  It  must  be  held  that  the  part  of  a 
thaumaturgist  was  forced  on  Jesus  by  the  craving  of 
disciples  and  the  demand  of  current  opinion.  He  had 
either  to  renounce  his  mission,  or  to  comply.1  His  mira¬ 
cles  were  “  a  violence  done  him  by  his  age,  a  concession 
which  a  pressing  necessity  wrested  from  him.”2  There 
were  miracles,  or  transactions  taken  for  miracles,  in 
which  he  consented  “to  play  a  part.”3  He  was  reluc¬ 
tant;  it  was  distasteful  to  him:  but  he  consented.  Then 
come  M.  Renan’s  apologies  for  Jesus.  Sincerity  is  not 
a  trait  of  Orientals.  We  must  not  be  hard  upon  decep¬ 
tion  of  this  sort.  We  must  conquer  our  “repugnances.” 
“We  shall  have  a  right  to  be  severe  upon  such  men 
when  we  have  accomplished  as  much  with  our  scruples 
as  they  with  their  lies.”  In  that  impure  city  of  Jeru¬ 
salem,  Jesus  was  no  longer  himself.  His  conscience, 
by  the  fault  of  others,  had  lost  its  original  clearness. 
He  was  desperate,  pushed  to  the  extremity,  no  longer 
master  of  himself.  Death  must  come  to  restore  him  to 
liberty,  to  deliver  him  from  a  part  which  became  every 
hour  more  exacting,  more  difficult  to  sustain.4 

In  plain  English,  Jesus  was  an  impostor,  unwillingly, 
yet  really  and  consciously.  From  enthusiasm  it  went 
on  to  knavery;  for  pious  fraud,  notwithstanding  M. 
Renan’s  smooth  deprecation,  R  f'-aud.  The  Son  of 
man  sinks  out  of  sight,  with  his  conscience  clouded, 
his  character  fallen.  M.  Renan’s  excuses  for  him  are 
themselves  immoral.  Even  his  apologies  for  Judas  are 
less  offensive. 

This  defamation  of  J esus  is  for  the  theory  of  disbelief 
a  rzductio  ad  absurdum.  The  wise  and  good  of  all  ages 
are  told  that  their  veneration  is  misplaced.  Jesus  was 


1  Vie  de  Jesus,  p.  267. 
8  Ibid  ,  p.  513. 


2  Ibid.,  p.  279. 
‘  Ibid.,  p.  375. 


PROOF  OF  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 


179 


not  the  “  holy  one.”  There  is  nothing  even  heroic  in 
him.  He  is  swept  away  by  a  popular  current,  giving 
up  his  rectitude,  giving  up  his  moral  discrimination. 
He  is  made  up  in  equal  parts  of  the  visionary  and  the 
deceiver.  By  his  moral  weakness  he  brings  himself  into 
such  an  entanglement,  that  to  escape  from  it  by  death 
is  a  piece  of  good  fortune.  He  to  whom  mankind  have 
looked  up  as  to  the  ideal  of  holiness  turns  out  to  be, 
first  a  dreamer,  then  a  fanatic  and  a  charlatan.  It  is 
proved  that  a  clean  thing  can  come  out  of  an  unclean. 
Out  of  so  muddy  a  fountain  there  has  flowed  so  pure 
a  stream.  Courage,  undeviating  truth,  steadfast  loyalty 
to  right  against  all  seductions,  in  all  these  Christian 
ages  have  sprung  from  communion  with  a  dishonest 
man,  who  obeyed  the  maxim  that  the  end  justifies  the 
means.  For  no  gloss  of  rhetoric  can  cover  up  the  mean¬ 
ing  that  lies  underneath  M.  Renan’s  fine  phrases.  When 
the  light  coating  of  French  varnish  is  rubbed  off,  it  is  a 
picture  of  degrading  duplicity  that  is  left. 

This  is  the  last  word  of  scientific  infidelity.  Let  the 
reader  mark  the  point  to  which  his  attention  is  called. 
On  any  rational  theory  about  the  date  and  authorship 
of  the  Gospels,  it  is  found  impossible  to  doubt  that 
facts  supposed  at  the  time  of  their  occurrence  to  be 
miraculous  were  plentiful  in  the  life  of  Jesus.  The 
advocates  of  atheism  are  driven  to  the  hypothesis  of 
hallucination  with  a  large  infusion  of  pious  fraud. 
There  is  no  fear  that  such  a  theory  will  prevail.  No 
being  could  exist  with  the  heterogeneous,  discordant 
qualities  attributed  by  Renan  to  Christ.  Were  such 
a  being  possible,  the  new  life  of  humanity  could  never 
have  flowed  from  so  defiled  a  source. 

The  arguments  which  this  chapter  contains  will  not 


180  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

convince  an  atheist.  One  who  denies  that  God  is  a 
personal  being  is,  in  direct  proportion  to  the  force  of 
his  conviction,  debarred  from  believing  in  a  miracle. 
He  will  either  seek  for  some  other  explanation  of  the 
phenomena,  or  leave  the  problem  unsolved.  Secondly, 
these  arguments,  it  is  believed,  separately  taken,  are 
valid ;  but  they  are  also  to  be  considered  together.  Their 
collective  strength  is  to  be  estimated.  If  the  single 
rod  could  be  broken,  the  same  may  not  be  true  of  the 
bundle.  Thirdly,  it  is  not  to  be  forgotten  that  demon¬ 
strative  reasoning  on  questions  of  historical  fact  is  pre¬ 
cluded.  He  who  requires  a  coercive  argument  where 
probable  reasoning  alone  is  applicable  must  be  left  in 
doubt  or  disbelief.  In  the  strongest  conceivable  case 
of  probable  reasoning  there  is  always  a  possibility  of  the 
opposite  opinion  being  true.  Enough  that  reasoimble 
doubt  is  excluded. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


TDE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD  OF  THE  TESTIMONY 

GIVEN  BY  THE  APOSTLES. 

What  did  the  apostles  testify  ?  Is  their  testimony 
to  be  relied  on?  In  the  historical  inquiry  which  we  are 
pursuing,  these  are  the  main  questions.  The  subject 
of  the  authorship  and  date  of  the  Gospels  concerns  us 
from  its  relation  to  the  first  of  these  points.  Only  by 
investigating  the  origin  of  the  Gospels  can  we  ascer¬ 
tain  whether  these  writings  faithfully  present  the  testi¬ 
mony  given  by  the  apostles.  But  proof,  from  whatever 
quarter  it  may  come,  that  such  is  the  fact,  even  though 
not  bearing  directly  on  the  question  by  what  particular 
authors  the  Gospels  were  written,  it  is  pertinent  to 
adduce.  And  proof  of  this  character,  it  will  be  seen, 
is  not  wholly  wanting. 

There  is  one  remark  to  be  made  prior  to  entering  on 
the  discussion  before  us.  The  circumstance  that  the 
Gospels  contain  accounts  of  miracles  gives  rise,  in  some 
minds,  to  a  conscious  or  secret  disinclination  to  refer 
these  writings  to  the  apostles,  or  to  regard  them  as  a 
fair  and  true  representation  of  their  testimony.  But 
this  bias  is  unreasonable.  Apart  from  the  general  con¬ 
sideration,  that,  if  there  is  to  be  revelation,  there  must 
be  miracle,  it  has  been  already  proved  that  accounts  of 
miracles,  and  of  some  of  the  very  miracles  recorded  in 

these  histories,  did  enter  into  the  narratives  of  the 

181 


182  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


ministry  of  Jesus  which  the  apostles  were  accustomed 
to  give. 

The  universal  reception  of  the  four  Gospels  as  hav¬ 
ing  exclusive  authority,  by  the  churches  in  the  closing 
part  of  the  second  century,  requires  to  be  accounted 
for  if  their  genuineness  is  denied.  The  literature  which 
has  survived  from  the  latter  part  of  the  first  century 
and  the  beginning  of  the  second  is  scanty  and  frag¬ 
mentary.  But  when  we  come  out  into  the  light  in  the 
last  quarter  of  the  second  century,  we  find  the  Gospels 
of  the  canon  in  full  possession  of  the  field.  We  hear, 
moreover,  from  all  quarters,  the  declaration  that  these 
are  the  Gospels  which  have  come  down  from  the 
apostles.  We  are  given  to  understand  that  their  genu¬ 
ineness  had  never  been  questioned  in  the  churches. 
There  was  no  centralized  organization,  be  it  remem¬ 
bered,  to  pass  judgment  on  their  claims.  They  owed 
this  universal  acceptance  to  the  concerted  action  of  no 
priesthood,  to  the  decree  of  no  council.  The  simple 
fact  is,  that  these  books  —  ascribed  respectively  to  four 
authors,  two  of  whom  were  apostles,  and  the  other  two 
were  not  —  were  recognized  by  the  Christian  churches 
everywhere,  and,  it  was  alleged,  had  been  recognized 
without  dispute.  Here  is  Irenseus,  born  as  early  as  A.D. 
180  —  probably  a  number  of  years  earlier1  —  in  Asia 
Minor,  bishop  of  the  church  of  Lyons  from  A.D.  178  to 
202 ;  an  upright  man,  in  a  conspicuous  position,  and 
with  ample  means  of  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  the 
churches  in  Asia  Minor  and  Italy,  as  well  as  in  Gaul. 

1  Tillemont,  and  Lightfoot  (Cont.  Review,  August,  1876,  p.  415)  fix 
the  date  of  Irenseus’  birth  at  A.D.  120  ;  Ropes  (Bib.  Sacra,  April,  1877, 
pp.  288  seq.),  at  A.D.  126;  so  Hilgenfeld.  But  Zahn  argues  ably  (Herzog 
u.  Plitt’s  Real.  Encycl.,  vii.  134  seq.)  for  an  earlier  date,  A.D.  115  ;  with 
whom  agrees  Harnack  Die  Uberlieferung  d.  griechischen  Apologg.  d. 
2tn  Jahrh.,  p.  204. 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


188 


In  defending  Christian  truth  against  the  grotesque 
speculations  of  the  Gnostics,  he  is  led  to  make  his  ap¬ 
peal,  at  the  beginning  of  the  third  book  of  his  treatise, 
to  the  Scriptures.  This  leads  him  to  present  an  account 
of  the  composition  of  the  Gospels,  —  how  Matthew  pub¬ 
lished  “  a  written  Gospel  among  the  Hebrews  in  their 
own  language  ;  ”  Mark  put  in  writing  “  the  things  that 
were  preached  by  Peter ;  ”  Luke,  “  the  attendant  of 
Paul,”  wrote  the  third  Gospel;  and  “afterwards,  John, 
the  disciple  of  the  Lord,  who  also  leaned  on  his  breast 
—  he  again  put  forth  his  Gospel  while  he  abode  at 
Ephesus  in  Asia.” 1  These  Gospels,  and  no  others,  he 
tells  us,  the  churches  acknowledge.  Fully  to  illustrate 
how  Irenseus  constantly  assumes  the  exclusive  authority 
of  the  Gospels  of  the  canon  would  require  us  to  trans¬ 
fer  to  these  pages  no  small  part  of  his  copious  work. 
Passing  over  the  sea  to  Alexandria,  we  find  Clement, 
who  was  born  probably  at  Athens,  certainly  not  later 
than  A.D.  160,  and  was  at  the  head  of  the  catechetical 
school  in  the  city  of  his  adoption  from  A.D.  190  to  203, 
having  previously  travelled  in  Greece,  Italy,  Syria,  and 
Palestine.2  Referring  to  a  statement  in  an  apocryphal 
Gospel,  he  remarks  that  it  is  not  found  “  in  the  four 
Gospels  which  have  been  handed  down  to  us.”  3  In  an¬ 
other  place  he  states  the  order  in  which  these  Gospels 
were  written  as  he  had  learned  it  from  “  the  oldest 
presbyters.”  4  Then,  from  the  church  of  North  Africa 
we  have  the  emphatic  affirmations  of  Tertullian  (born 
about  A.D.  160)  to  the  sole  authority  of  the  four  Gos¬ 
pels,  which  were  written  by  apostles  and  by  apostolic 
men,  their  companions.6  In  the  churches  founded  by 

i  Adv.  Haer.,  III.  i.  1.  «  Euset).,  H.  E.,  v.  11. 

8  Strom.,  iii.  553  (ed.  Potter). 

*  tcov  aveicaOev  npecr^vrepuiv,  EuseL.,  H.  E.,vi.  14.  ®  Adv.  Marc.,  iv.  2—6. 


184  THE  GROUNDS  OF  TIIEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

the  apostles,  and  by  the  churches  in  fellowship  with 
them,  he  asserts,  the  Gospel  of  Luke  had  been  received 
since  its  first  publication.  “The  same  authority  of 
the  apostolic  churches,”  he  adds,  “  will  also  support  the 
other  Gospels,”  of  which  Matthew,  Mark,  and  John 
were  the  authors.  The  Muratorian  canon,  of  Roman 
origin,  the  date  of  which  is  not  far  from  A.D.  170,  is 
a  fragment  which  begins  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence. 
That  sentence,  from  its  resemblance  to  a  statement 
made  by  an  earlier  writer,  Papias,  respecting  Mark,  as 
well  as  from  what  immediately  follows  in  the  document 
itself,  evidently  relates  to  this  evangelist.  This  broken 
sentence  is  succeeded  by  an  account  of  the  composition 
of  Luke,  which  is  designated  as  the  third  Gospel,  and 
then  of  John.  In  Syria,  the  Peshito,  the  Bible  of  the 
ancient  Syrian  churches,  having  its  origin  at  about 
the  same  time  as  the  Muratorian  canon,  begins  with  the 
four  Gospels.  The  canon  of  Scripture  was  then  in 
process  of  formation ;  and  the  absence  from  the  Peshito 
of  the  second  and  third  Epistles  of  John,  second  Peter, 
Jude,  and  Revelation,  —  books  which  were  disputed  in 
the  ancient  church,  —  is  a  proof  at  once  of  the  antiquity 
of  that  version  and  of  the  value  of  the  testimony  given 
by  it  to  the  universal  reception  of  the  Gospels. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind,  that  the  Fathers  who  have 
been  named  above  are  here  referred  to,  not  for  the  value 
of  their  opinion  as  individuals  in  regard  to  the  au¬ 
thorship  of  the  Gospels,  but  as  witnesses  for  the  foot¬ 
ing  which  they  had  in  the  churches.  These  Christian 
societies  now  encircled  the  Mediterranean.  They  were 
scattered  over  the  Roman  Empire  from  Syria  to  Spain.1 


1  There  were  Christians  in  Spain  (Irenseus,  Adv.  Haer.,  i.  10,  2;  Ter- 
tullian,  Adv.  Judaeos,  c.  7).  If,  as  is  probable,  Spain  is  designated  by 
Vhe  to  repfia  t>)s  Svaeuf  of  Clement  of  Rome  (Ep.  v.),  St.  Paul  Visited 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFJL  RECORD. 


186 


No  doubt  the  exultation  of  the  Fathers  of  the  second 
century  over  the  rapid  spread  and  the  prospects  of 
Christianity  led  to  hyperbole  in  describing  the  progress 
it  had  made.1  But,  making  all  due  allowance  for  rhe¬ 
torical  warmth,  it  is  to  be  remembered,  that,  in  writing 
for  contemporaries,  it  would  have  been  folly  for  them 
intentionally  to  indulge  in  misstatement  in  a  matter 
of  statistics  with  which  their  readers  were  as  well  ac¬ 
quainted  as  they  were  themselves.  Christians  had 
become  numerous  enough  to  excite  anxiety  more  and 
more  in  the  rulers  of  the  empire.  The  question  to  be 
answered  is,  how  this  numerous,  widely  dispersed  body 
had  been  led  unanimously  to  pitch  upon  these  four  nar¬ 
ratives  as  the  sole  authorities  for  the  history  of  Jesus. 
For  what  reasons  had  they  adopted,  nemine  contracts 
tente ,  these  four  Gospels  exclusively,  one  of  which  was 
ascribed  to  Matthew,  a  comparatively  obscure  apostle, 
and  two  others  to  Luke  and  Mark,  neither  of  whom 
belonged  among  the  Twelve  ? 

But  the  situation  of  these  Fathers  personally,  as  it 
helps  us  to  determine  the  value  of  their  judgment  on 
the  main  question,  is  worth  considering.  Irenaeus  has 
occasion,  in  connection  with  the  passage  already  cited 
from  him,  to  dwell  on  the  tradition  respecting  the 
teaching  of  the  apostles  which  is  preserved  in  the  vari¬ 
ous  churches  founded  by  them.  Of  these  churches  he 
says,  that  it  is  easy  to  give  the  list  of  their  bishops  back 

that  country.  See  Bishop  Lightfoot’s  note  (The  Epp.  of  Clement  of 
Rome,  p.  49). 

i  Tertullian  (Adv.  Judseos,  c.  7;  Apol.,  c.  37),  Irenaeus  (Adv.  Haer., 
i.  10, 1,  2;  iii.  4,  1),  cf.  Justin  (Dial.,  c.  117).  For  Gibbon’s  comments  on 
these  statements,  see  Decline  and  Fall,  etc.,  chap.  xv.  (Smith’s  ed.,  ii. 
213,  n.  177).  Gibbon  refers  to  Origen’s  remark  (Contra  Cels.,  viii.  69), 
that  the  Christians  are  “  very  few  ”  comparatively ;  but  he  omits  anothei 
passage  (c.  ix.)  of  the  same  work,  in  which  Origen  refers  to  them  as  a 
“  multitude,”  of  all  ranks. 


186  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

to  foundation.  By  way  of  example,  he  states  the  suc¬ 
cession  of  the  Roman  bishops.  In  these  lists,  as  given 
by  the  ancient  writers,  there  will  be  some  discrepancies 
as  to  the  earliest  names,  owing  chiefly  to  the  fact,  that, 
in  the  time  before  episcopacy  was  fully  developed,  lead¬ 
ing  presbyters,  and  not  always  the  same  persons,  w’ould 
be  set  down  in  the  catalogues.1  But  a  person  who  is 
familiar  now  with  any  particular  church  in  whose  his¬ 
tory  he  has  felt  much  interest  will  have  little  difficulty 
in  recounting  the  succession  of  its  pastors  extending 
back  for  a  century,  and  will  not  be  ignorant  of  any  very 
remarkable  events  which  have  occurred  in  its  affairs 
during  that  period.  Moreover,  Irenseus  was  acquainted 
with  individuals  who  had  been  taught  by  John  and  by 
other  apostles.  He  had  known  in  his  childhood  Poly¬ 
carp,  whose  recollections  of  the  Apostle  John  were  fresh.2 
He  had  conferred  with  “  elders  ”  —  that  is,  venerated 
leaders  in  the  church,  of  an  earlier  day  —  who  had  been 
pupils  of  men  whom  the  apostles  had  instructed,  and 
some  of  whom  had  sat  at  the  feet  of  the  apostles  them¬ 
selves.3  Of  one  of  these  “elders”  in  particular  he  makes 
repeated  mention,  whose  name  is  not  given,  but  whom  in 
one  place  he  styles  “apostolorum  discipulus.”4  Pothi- 
nus,  whom  Irenseus  succeeded  at  Lyons,  was  thrown  into 
prison  in  the  persecution  under  Marcus  Aurelius,  A.D. 
177,  and  died  two  days  after,  being  past  ninety  years  old. 
Pothinus  was  probably  from  Asia  Minor,  whence  the 
church  at  Lyons  was  planted.  His  memory  ran  back 
beyond  the  beginning  of  the  century.  He  is  one  of  many 
who  had  numbered  among  their  acquaintances  younger 

1  Gieseler’s  Church  History,  I.  i.  3,  §  34,  n.  10. 

2  Adv.  Haer.,  iii.  3,  4;  Epist.  ad  Flor. 

8  Adv.  Haer.,  ii.  22,  5;  iii.  1,  1;  iii.  3,  4;  v.  30, 1;  v.  33,  3;  v.  33,  4;  ci 
Euseb.,  H.  E.,  iii.  23,  iv.  14,  v.  8. 

4  Adv.  Haer.,  iv.  32, 1. 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


187 


contemporaries  of  apostles.  Clement  of  Alexandria  was 
a  pupil  of  Pantsenus,  who  had  founded  the  catechetical 
school  there  shortly  after  the  middle  of  the  second 
century.  In  all  of  the  oldest  churches  there  were  per¬ 
sons  who  were  separated  by  only  one  link  from  apostles. 

The  attempt  has  often  been  made  to  discredit  the 
testimony  of  Irenseus  by  reference  to  a  passage  which 
really  strengthens  it.  After  asserting  that  there  are 
four  Gospels  and  no  more,  he  fancifully  refers  to  the 
analogy  of  the  four  winds,  four  divisions  of  the  earth, 
four  faces  of  the  cherubim,  four  covenants,  etc.1  Says 
Mr.  Froude,  “  That  there  were  four  true  evangelists, 
and  that  there  could  be  neither  more  nor  less  than  four, 
Irenaeus  had  persuaded  himself,  because  there  were  four 
winds  or  spirits,”  etc.2  It  is  plain  to  every  reader  of 
Irenseus,  that  his  belief  in  the  four  Gospels  is  founded 
on  the  witness  given  by  the  churches  and  by  well-in¬ 
formed  individuals,  to  their  authenticity ;  and  that  these 
analogies  merely  indicate  how  firmly  established  the 
authority  of  the  Gospels  was  in  his  own  mind  and  in 
the  minds  of  all  Christian  people.  It  was  something 
as  well  settled  as  the  cosmical  system.  If  some  enthu¬ 
siast  for  the  Hanoverian  house  were  to  throw  out  the 
suggestion  that  there  must  be  four,  and  only  four, 
Georges,  because  there  are  four  quarters  of  the  globe, 
four  vulnds,  etc.,  Mr.  Froude  would  hardly  announce 
that  the  man’s  conviction  of  the  historic  fact  that  those 
four  kings  have  ruled  in  England  is  founded  on  these 
fanciful  parallels.  Mr.  Froude  himself  shrinks  from  his 
own  assertion  as  quoted  above ;  for  he  adds,  “  It  is  not 
to  be  supposed  that  the  intellects  of  those  great  men 
who  converted  the  world  to  Christianity  were  satisfied 
with  arguments  so  imaginative  as  these :  they  must 

1  Adv.  Haer.,  iii.  2,  7.  2  Short  Studies  on  Great  Subjects,  p.  213. 


188  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

have  had  other  closer  and  more  accurate  grounds  for 
the  decision,”  etc.  But  then  he  continues,  “  The  mere 
employment  of  such  figures  as  evidence  in  any  sense 
shows  the  enormous  difference  between  their  modes  of 
reasoning  and  ours,  and  illustrates  the  difficulty  of  de¬ 
ciding,  at  our  present  distance  from  them,  how  far  their 
conclusions  were  satisfactory.”  If  they  had  “other 
closer  and  more  accurate  ”  grounds  of  belief,  why  should 
such  instances  of  weakness  in  reasoning,  even  if  it  be 
intended  as  strict  reasoning,  operate  to  destroy  the 
value  of  their  testimony  ?  A  man  who  is  not  a  strict 
logician  may  be  a  v perfectly  credible  witness  to  facts 
within  his  cognizance.  But  the  inference  suggested  by 
Mr.  Froude’s  remark  as  to  the  intellectual  character 
of  Irenseus  is  unjust.  A  single  instance  of  weak  rea¬ 
soning  is  a  slender  basis  for  so  broad  a  conclusion. 
Jonathan  Edwards  is  rightly  considered  a  man  of  pene¬ 
trating  intellect  and  of  some  skill  in  logic.  Yet  in  his 
diary  he  makes  this  absurd  remark:  “January,  1728. 
I  think  Christ  has  recommended  rising  early  in  the 
morning,  by  his  rising  from  the  grave  so  early.”  1  Cer¬ 
tainly  no  one  would  feel  himself  justified,  on  account  of 
Edwards’s  remark,  in  disputing  his  word  on  a  matter 
of  fact  within  his  personal  cognizance.  We  do  not 
mean  that  Irenseus  had  the  same  measure  of  intellect¬ 
ual  vigor  as  Edwards  :  nevertheless,  he  was  not  a  weak 
man,  and  he  furnishes  in  his  writings  a  great  many 
examples  of  sound  reasoning.  The  inference  unfavora¬ 
ble  to  the  value  of  his  testimony,  which  Froude  in 
common  with  many  others  has  drawn  from  a  single 
instance  of  fanciful  argument  or  illustration,  is  itself  an 
example  of  very  flimsy  logic. 

In  quoting  the  statements  of  the  Christian  writers  of 

1  Dwight’s  Lifo  of  Edwards,  p.  106. 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


189 


the  closing  part  of  tlie  second  century,  it  is  not  implied, 
of  course,  that  either  they  or  their  informants  were  in¬ 
capable  of  error.  Who  does  not  know  that  traditions, 
the  substance  of  which  is  perfectly  trustworthy,  may 
interweave  incidental  or  minor  details,  which,  if  not 
without  foundation,  at  least  require  to  be  sifted?  A 
tradition  may  take  on  new  features  of  this  character, 
even  in  passing  from  one  individual  to  another,  when 
there  is  an  average  degree  of  accuracy  in  both.  But 
every  intelligent  historical  critic  knows  the  distinction 
which  is  to  be  made  between  essential  facts  and  their 
accessories.  It  is  only  the  ignorant,  or  the  sophist  who 
has  an  end  to  accomplish,  that  ignore  this  distinction, 
and  seek  to  apply  the  maxim,  falsus  in  uno ,  falsus  in 
omnibus ,  which  relates  to  wilful  mendacity,  to  the  unde¬ 
signed  modifications  which  oral  statements  are  almost 
sure  to  undergo  in  the  process  of  transmission  from  one 
to  another.  It  is  evident  that  the  few  documents  on 
which  the  Christians  of  the  second  century  depended 
for  their  knowledge  of  the  life  and  ministry  of  Christ 
must  have  had  an  importance  in  their  eyes  which  would 
render  the  main  facts  as  to  the  origin  of  these  writings 
of  the  highest  interest  and  importance.  As  to  these 
documents,  the  foundation  of  the  faith  for  which  they 
were  exposing  themselves  to  torture  and  death,  infor¬ 
mation  would  be  earnestly  sought  and  highly  prized. 
That  this  curiosity,  which  we  should  expect  to  find, 
really  existed,  the  ecclesiastical  writers  plainly  indicate. 

Let  us  now  go  back  from  the  age  of  Irenseus  to  tho 
first  half  of  the  second  century.  In  that  obscure  period, 
where  so  many  writings  which  might  have  thrown  light 
on  the  questions  before  us  have  perished,  there  is  one 
author  who  is  competent  to  afford  us  welcome  informa¬ 
tion.  It  is  Justin  Martyr.  He  was  born  in  Palestine, 


190  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

at  Flavia  Neapolis,  near  the  site  of  the  ancient  Sichem. 
From  his  pen  there  remain  two  apologies,  the  first  and 
principal  of  which  was  addressed  to  Antoninus  Pius, 
A.D.  147  or  148,  and  a  dialogue  with  Trypho,  a  Jew. 
Tn  these  writings,  two  of  which  are  directed  to  heathen, 
and  the  third  treats  of  points  in  controversy  between 
Jews  and  Christians,  there  was  no  occasion  to  refer  to 
the  evangelists  by  name.  The  sources  from  which  h8 
draws  his  accounts  of  the  life  and  teaching  of  Jesus 
are  styled  Memoirs ,  a  term  borrowed  from  the  title 
given  by  Xenophon  to  his  reminiscences  of  Socrates. 
W ere  these  Memoirs  the  four  Gospels  of  the  canon  ?  1 
The  first  observation  to  be  made  is,  that  a  tolerably 
full  narrative  of  the  life  of  Jesus  can  be  put  together 
from  Justin’s  quotations  and  allusions,  and  that  this 
narrative  coincides  with  the  canonical  Gospels.  The 
quotations  are  not  verbally  accurate  ;  neither  are  Jus¬ 
tin’s  citations  from  heathen  writers  or  the  Old-Testa¬ 
ment  prophets.  He  is  not  always  in  verbal  agreement 
with  himself  when  he  has  occasion  to  cite  a  passage,  or 
refer  to  an  incident  more  than  once.2  It  was  not  a  cus¬ 
tom  of  the  early  Fathers  to  quote  the  New-Testament 
writers  with  verbal  accuracy.  J ustin  blends  together 
statements  in  the  different  Gospels.  This  is  easily 
accounted  for  on  the  supposition  that  he  was  quoting 


1  On  the  subject  of  the  Memoirs  of  Justin  and  his  quotations,  the 
following  writers  are  of  special  value:  Semisch,  Die  apostolischen 
Denkwiirdigkeiten  des  Miirtyrers  Justinus  (1848);  Sanday,  The  Gospels 
of  the  Second  Century,  pp.  88-138;  Norton,  The  Evidences  of  the  Genu¬ 
ineness  of  the  Gospels,  vol.  i.  pp.  200-240,  ccxiv.-ccxxxiii.;  Westcott, 
History  of  the  Canon  of  the  N.  T.,  pp.  83-150;  Professor  E.  Abbot,  The 
Authorship  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  —  External  Evidences  (1880);  also 
Bleek’s  Einl.  in  d.  N.  T.  (ed.  Mangold),  p.  271  seq.;  Hilgenfeld’a 
Kritisch.  Untersuch.  iiber  die  Evangell.  Justins,  der  Clementiner,  u. 
Marcions;  and  Supernatural  Religion  (7th  ed.). 

2  E  g.,  Matt.  xi.  27.  See  Apol.,  i.  c.  63;  Dial.,  c.  106. 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


191 


from  memory,  and  when  it  is  remembered,  that,  fc  r  the 
purpose  which  he  had  in  view,  he  had  no  motive  to  set 
off  carefully  to  each  evangelist  what  specially  belonged 
to  him.  A  similar  habit  of  connecting  circumstances 
from  the  several  Gospels  is  not  unfrequent  at  present, 
familiar  as  these  writings  have  become.  It  is  impossi¬ 
ble  here  to  combine  all  the  items  of  the  gospel  history 
which  may  be  gathered  up  from  Justin’s  writings,  but 
an  idea  of  their  character  and  extent  may  be  given 
by  casting  a  portion  of  them  into  a  consecutive  narra¬ 
tive.1 

The  Messiah,  according  to  Justin,  was  born  of  a 
virgin.  Particulars  of  the  annunciation  (Luke  i.  26, 
31,  35)  and  of  Joseph’s  dream  (Matt.  i.  18-25)  are 
given.  He  was  born  in  Bethlehem,  where  his  parents 
were,  in  consequence  of  the  census  under  Cyrenius. 
He  was  laid  in  a  manger,  was  worshipped  by  the  Magi, 
was  carried  by  his  parents  into  Egypt  on  account  of 
the  machinations  of  Herod,  which  led  to  the  massacre 
of  the  children  in  Bethlehem.  From  Egypt  they  re¬ 
turned,  after  the  death  of  Herod.  At  Nazareth  Jesus 
grew  up  to  the  age  of  thirty,  and  was  a  carpenter 
(Mark  vi.  3).  There  he  remained  until  John  appeared 
in  his  wild  garb,  declaring  that  he  was  not  the  Christ 
(John  i.  19  seq.),  but  that  One  stronger  than  he  was 
coming,  whose  shoes  he  was  not  worthy  to  bear.  John 
was  put  in  prison,  and  was  beheaded,  at  a  feast  on 
Herod’s  birthday,  at  the  instance  of  his  sister’s  daugh¬ 
ter  (Matt.  xiv.  6  seq.).  This  John  was  the  Elias  who 
was  to  come  (Matt.  xvii.  11-13).  Jesus  was  baptized 

1  The  quotations  from  Justin  are  collected  in  Credner’s  Beitrage  zur 
Einl.,  etc.,  pp.  150-209.  The  r€sum€  above  is  mainly  abridged  from  Dr. 
Sanday’s  The  Gospels  in  the  Second  Century,  pp.  91-98.  Summaries  of 
a  like  nature  are  given  in  Mr.  Sadler’s  The  Lost  Gospel  and  its  Contents 
(London,  1876). 


192  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


by  John  in  the  Jordan.  The  temptation  followed.  To 
Satan’s  demand  to  be  worshipped,  Jesus  replied,  “Get 
thee  behind  me,  Satan,”  etc.  Jesus  wrought  miracles, 
healing  the  blind,  dumb,  lame,  all  weakness  and  disease, 
and  raising  the  dead.  He  began  his  teaching  by  pro¬ 
claiming  that  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand  (Matt. 
Iv.  17).  Justin  introduces  a  large  number  of  the  pre¬ 
cepts  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  sayings  from  the 
narrative  of  the  centurion  of  Capernaum  (Matt.  viii. 
11,  12 ;  Luke  xiii.  28,  29),  and  of  the  feast  in  the  house 
of  Matthew.  He  brings  in  the  choosing  of  the  twelve 
disciples,  the  name  Boanerges  given  to  the  sons  of 
Zebedee  (Mark  iii.  17),  the  commission  of  the  apostles, 
the  discourse  of  Jesus  after  the  departure  of  the  mes¬ 
sengers  of  John,  the  sign  of  the  prophet  Jonas,  Peter’s 
confession  of  faith  (Matt.  xvi.  15-18),  the  announce¬ 
ment  of  the  passion  (Matt.  xvi.  21).  Justin  has  the 
story  of  the  rich  young  man ;  the  entry  of  Jesus  into 
J erusalem ;  the  cleansing  of  the  temple ;  the  wedding- 
garment;  the  conversations  upon  the  tribute-money, 
upon  the  resurrection  (Luke  xx.  35,  36),  and  upon 
the  greatest  commandment;  the  denunciations  of  the 
Pharisees ;  the  eschatological  discourse ;  and  the  para¬ 
ble  of  the  talents  (Matt.  xxv.  14-30).  Justin’s  account 
of  the  institution  of  the  Lord’s  Supper  corresponds  to 
that  of  Luke.  Jesus  is  said  to  have  sung  a  hymn  at 
the  close  of  the  Supper,  to  have  letired  with  three  of 
-  his  disciples  to  the  Mount  of  Olives,  to  have  been  in  an 
agony,  his  sweat  falling  in  drops  to  the  ground  (Luke 
xxii.  42-44).  His  followers  forsook  him.  He  was 
brought  before  the  scribes  and  Pharisees,  and  before 
Pilate.  He  kept  silence  before  Pilate.  Pilate  sent  him 
bound  to  Herod  (Luke  xxiii.  7).  Most  of  the  circum¬ 
stances  of  the  crucifixion  are  narrated  by  Justin,  such 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFU  ,  RECORD. 


193 


as  the  piercing  with  nails,  the  casting  of  lots,  the  fact 
of  sneers  uttered  by  the  crowd,  the  cry,  “  My  God,  my 
God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?  ”  and  the  last  words, 
“Father,  into  thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit”  (Luke 
xxiii.  46).  Christ  is  said  to  have  been  buried  in  the 
evening,  the  disciples  being  all  scattered,  according  to 
Zech.  xiii.  7  (Matt.  xxvi.  81,  56).  On  the  third  day  he 
rose  from  the  dead.  He  convinced  his  disciples  that 
his  sufferings  had  been  predicted  (Luke  xxiv.  26,  46). 
He  gave  them  his  last  commission.  They  saw  him  as¬ 
cend  into  heaven  (Luke  xxiv.  50).  The  Jews  spread 
a  story  that  the  disciples  stole  the  body  of  Jesus  from 
the  grave. 

This  is  a  mere  outline  of  the  references  to  the  gospel 
history  which  are  scattered  in  profusion  through  Jus¬ 
tin’s  writings.  A  full  citation  of  them  would  exhibit 
more  impressively  their  correspondence  to  the  Gospels. 
The  larger  portion  of  the  matter,  it  will  be  perceived, 
accords  with  what  we  find  in  Matthew  and  Luke ;  a 
small  portion  of  it,  however,  is  found  in  Mark  exclu¬ 
sively.  But  there  are  not  wanting  clear  and  striking 
correspondences  to  John.  The  most  important  of  these 
single  passages  is  that  relating  to  regeneration,1  which, 
notwithstanding  certain  verbal  variations  to  be  noticed 
hereafter,  bears  a  close  resemblance  to  John  iii.  3-5. 
Again :  Christ  is  said  by  Justin  to  have  reproached  the 
Jews  as  knowing  neither  the  Father  nor  the  Son  (John 
nii.  19,  xvi.  3).  He  is  said  to  have  healed  those  who 
were  blind  from  “  their  birth,” 2  using  here  a  phrase, 
which,  like  the  fact,  is  found  in  John  alone  among 
the  evangelists  (John  ix.  1).  Strongly  as  these  and 
some  other  passages  resemble  incidents  and  sayings  in 
John,  the  correspondence  of  Justin’s  doctrinal  state 

1  Apol.,  i.  61.  2  Dial.,  c.  49. 


194  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CIIRHTIAN  BELIEF. 


ments  respecting  the  divinity  of  Christ  and  the  Logos 
to  the  teaching  of  the  fourth  Gospel  is  even  more 
significant.  Justin  speaks  of  Christ  as  the  Son  of  God, 
“  who  alone  is  properly  called  Son,  the  Word ;  who  also 
was  with  him,  and  was  begotten  before  the  works.” 1 
He  says  of  Christ,  that  “  he  took  flesh,  and  became 
man.”2  We  are  “to  recognize  him  as  God  coming 
forth  from  above,  and  Man  living  among  men.3  Con¬ 
ceptions  of  this  sort,  expressed  in  language  either  iden¬ 
tical  with  that  of  John,  or  closely  resembling  it,  enter 
into  the  warp  and  woof  of  Justin’s  doctrinal  system. 
They  are  both  in  substance  and  style  Johannine.  Pro¬ 
fessed  theologians  may  think  themselves  able  to  point 
out  shades  of  difference  between  Justin’s  idea  of  the 
pre-existence  and  divinity  of  Christ  and  that  of  the 
fourth  Gospel.  But,  if  there  be  an  appreciable  differ¬ 
ence,  it  is  far  less  marked  than  differences  which  subsist 
among  ancient  and  modern  interpreters  of  the  Gospel 
without  number.  The  efforts  of  the  author  of  /Super¬ 
natural  Religion  to  make  out  a  great  diversity  of  idea 
from  unimportant  variations  of  language  —  as  in  the 
statement  that  the  Logos  “  became  man,”  instead  of  the 
Hebraic  expression,  “  became  flesh  ”  —  hardly  merit  at¬ 
tention.  Some  of  his  criticisms  apply  with  equal  force 
to  the  Nicene  Creed,  and  would  prove  its  authors  to 
have  been  unacquainted  with  the  fourth  Gospel,  or  to 
have  disbelieved  in  it.4 

The  next  observation  respecting  Justin  is,  that  his 
references  to  events  or  sayings  in  the  Gospel  history, 
which  have  not  substantial  parallels  in  the  four  evangel 

1  Apol.,  ii.  6.  2  Ibid.,  ii.  5.  8  n>ii.,  i.  23. 

4  See  The  Lost  Gospel,  etc.,  p.  91.  In  Dial.,  c.  105,  Justin  is  more 
naturally  understood  as  referring  a  statement  peculiar  to  John  to  tho 
Memoirs.  See  Professor  E.  Abbot,  Authorship  of  the  Fourth  Gospel, 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


195 


ists,  are  few  and  insignificant.  They  embrace  not  more 
than  two  sayings  of  Jesns.  The  first  is,  “  In  what  things 
I  shall  apprehend  you,  in  these  will  I  judge  you 1 
which  is  found  also  in  Clement  of  Alexandria2  and 
Hippotytus.3  The  second  is,  “  There  shall  be  schisms 
and  heresies,”4  —  a  prediction  referred  also  to  Christ  by 
Tertullian5  and  Clement.6  Thus  both  passages  occur 
in  other  writers  who  own  no  authoritative  Gospels  but 
the  four  of  the  canon.  Justin  represents  the  voice  from 
heaven  at  the  baptism  of  Jesus  as  saying,  “Thou  art 
my  Son  ;  this  day  have  I  begotten  thee,”  7  —  a  combi¬ 
nation  of  expressions,  which  is  found  in  the  Codex 
Bezae,  in  Clement  of  Alexandria,8  in  Augustine,  and  9  is 
said  by  him  to  be  the  reading  in  some  manuscripts, 
though  not  the  oldest.10  The  recurrence  of  the  same 
expression  in  Ps.  ii.  7,  or  Acts  xiii.  33,  Ileb.  i.  5,  v.  5, 
led  naturally  to  a  confusion  of  memory,  out  of  which 
this  textual  reading  may  have  sprung.  That  Jesus  was 
charged  by  the  Jews  with  being  a  magician 11  is  a  state¬ 
ment  made  by  Lactantius 12  as  well  as  by  Justin,  and  is 
probably  a  reference  to  the  accusation  that  he  wrought 
miracles  by  the  aid  of  Beelzebub.  The  incidental  say¬ 
ing,  that  the  ass  on  which  Jesus  rode  was  tied  to  a  vine,13 
was  probably  a  detail  taken  up  from  Gen.  xlix.  11,  with 
which  it  is  connected  by  Justin.  The  saying  connected 

I  Dial.,  c.  47.  2  Quis  div.  salvus,  c.  40. 

3  Opp.  ed.  de  Lag.,  p.  73  (Otto’s  Justin,  i.  2,  p.  161,  n.  21).  The  origin 
cf  the  passage  has  been  traced  by  some  to  Ezekiel,  to  whom  Justin 
refers  in  the  context.  See  Ezek.  vii.  3,  8,  xviii.  30,  xxiv.  14,  xxxiii.  20. 
Otto  suggests  that  it  may  have  been  a  marginal  summary  attached  by 
Borne  ons  to  Matt.  xxiv.  40  seq.,  xxv.  1  seq. 

4  Dial.,  c.  35,  cf.  c.  51,  cf.  1  Cor.  xi.  18,  19. 

6  De  Prescript.  Haer.,  c.  4.  6  Strom.,  vii.  15,  §  90. 

7  Dial.,  c.  88,  cf.  c.  103.  8  Psed.,  i.  6. 

9  Enchir.  ad  LaTir.,  c.  49.  10  De  Cons.  Ew.,  ii.  14  (Otto,  i.  1,  p  325) 

II  Dial.,  c.  49,  cf.  Apol.,  i.  30.  12  Institute,  v.  3. 

18  Apol.,  i.  c.  32. 


196  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


with  the  designation  of  Jesus  as  a  carpenter,  that  lie 
made  ploughs  and  yokes,1  may  have  sprung  from  his 
words  in  Luke  ix.  62  and  Matt.  xi.  29,  30.  It  was 
found  pleasant  to  imagine  him  to  have  once  made 
these  objects  to  which  he  figuratively  referred.2  Jus¬ 
tin  speaks  of  Jesus  as  having  been  born  in  a  cave,8 
but  he  also  says  that  he  was  laid  in  a  manger.  That 
the  stable  which  contained  the  manger  was  a  cave  or 
grotto  was  a  current  tradition  in  the  time  of  Origen.4 
One  other  allusion  completes  the  brief  catalogue  of 
un canonical  passages  in  Justin.  He  speaks  of  a  fire 
kindled  on  the  Jordan  in  connection  with  the  baptism 
of  Jesus,  —  a  circumstance  which  might  have  mingled 
itself  early  in  the  oral  tradition.  These  constitute  the 
whole  of  the  supplement  to  the  contents  of  the  four 
Gospels  to  be  found  in  the  mass  of  Justin’s  references;5 

1  Dial.,  c.  88.  2  See  Otto,  i.  2,  p.  324  ;  Semisch,  p.  393 

8  Dial.,  c.  78.  4  Cont.  Celsum,  i.  51. 

6  Other  slight  variations  from  the  Gospels  are  sometimes  owing  to 
the  wish  of  Justin  to  accommodate  the  facts  in  the  life  of  Jesus  to  the 
predictions  of  the  Old  Testament.  This  is  especially  the  case,  as  might 
he  expected,  in  the  dialogue  with  Trypho  the  Jew.  The  following,  it 
is  believed,  are  all  the  instances  of  circumstantial  deviation  from  the 
evangelists.  Mary  is  said  to  have  descended  from  David  (Dial.,  c.  43, 
cf.  cc.  45,  100,  120).  This  statement  is  connected  (c.  68)  with  Isa.  vii.  13. 
Irenaeus  and  Tertullian  say  the  same  of  Mary.  The  Magi  came  from 
Arabia  (Dial.,  77,  cf.  78,  88,  102,  106),  on  the  basis  of  Ps.  lxxii.  10,  15*, 
Isa.  lx.  6.  The  same  is  said  by  many  later  writers  (Semisch,  p.  385).  In 
connection  with  Ps.  xxii.  11,  it  is  said  (Dial.,  103),  that,  when  Jesus  was 
seized,  not  a  single  person  was  there  to  help  him.  In  Dial.,  c.  103,  Pilate 
la  said  to  have  sent  Jesus  to  Herod  bound ;  this  being  suggested  by  Hos. 
vi.  1.  So  Tertullian,  Adv.  Marc.,  iv.  c.  42  ;  also  Cyril  of  Jerusalem  (see 
Otto,  i.  2,  p.  370,  n.  14).  The  Jews,  it  is  said  (Apol.,  i.  35),  set  Jesus  on 
the  judgment-seat,  and  said,  “  Judge  us,”  in  fulfilment  of  the  prediction 
In  Isa.  lviii.  2  ;  the  circumstance  referred  to  being  recorded  in  Matt, 
xxvii.  26,  30.  In  Dial.,  i.  101  (Apol.,  i.  38),  the  bystanders  at  the  cross 
are  said  to  have  distorted  their  lips,  —  the  thing  predicted  in  Ps.  xxii.  7  ; 
and  in  Apol.,  i.  38,  on  the  basis  of  several  passages  in  the  Psalms,  they 
are  said  to  have  cried  out,  “  He  who  raised  the  dead,  let  him  save  him¬ 
self.”  In  Apol.,  i.  50,  the  disciples  after  the  crucifixion  are  said  to  have 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


197 


and,  as  the  author  of  Supernatural  Religion  observes, 
“  Justin’s  works  teem  with  these  quotations.”  In  the 
index  to  Otto’s  critical  edition  they  number  two  hun¬ 
dred  and  eighty-one.  It  may  be  here  remarked,  that 
not  one  of  these  supplementary  scraps  is  referred  by 
Justin  to  the  Memoirs . 

It  is  thus  evident,  that,  whatever  the  Memoirs  were, 
their  contents  were  substantially  coincident  with  the 
contents  of  the  four  Gospels.  It  is  a  necessary  infer¬ 
ence,  that,  at  the  time  when  Justin  wrote,  there  was 
a  definite,  well-established  tradition  respecting  the  life 
and  teaching  of  Jesus ;  for  the  Memoirs ,  he  tells  us,  were 
read  on  Sundays  in  the  churches,  in  city  and  country.1 
The  period  of  his  theological  activity  was  from  about 
A.D.  140  to  A.D.  160.  None  will  probably  be  disposed 
to  question,  that  as  early,  at  least,  as  A.D.  135,  he  was 
conversant  with  this  gospel  tradition,  and  knew  that 
it  was  inculcated  in  the  churches.  The  Jewish  war  of 
Barchochebas  (A.D.  131  to  136),  he  says,  was  in  his 
own  time.2  But  that  date  (A.D.  135),  to  which  the 
personal  recollection  of  Justin  on  this  subject  extended, 
was  only  thirty-seven  years  after  the  accession  of  Tra¬ 
jan, —  an  event  which  preceded  the  death  of  the  Apostle 
John  at  Ephesus.3  If  the  date  of  Justin’s  acquaintance 
with  the  habitual  teaching  of  the  church  respecting  the 

fled  from  Christ,  and  denied  him  ;  and  in  c.  106  (cf.  c.  53)  they  are  said 
to  have  repented  of  it  after  the  resurrection  ;  the  prophetic  references 
being  Zech.  xiii.  7  and  Isa.  liii.  1-8.  In  Dial.,  c.  35,  Jesus  is  represented 
as  predicting,  that  “ false  apostles”  (as  well  as  false  prophets)  will  arise. 
This  is  not  presented  as  an  instance  of  prophecy  fulfilled  ;  but  the  same 
thing  is  found  in  Tertullian,  De  Praesc.  Hserett.,  c.  4,  and  in  other  writers. 
In  Dial.,  c.  51,  Jesus  predicts  his  re-appearance  at  Jerusalem,  and  that 
he  will  eat  and  drink  with  his  disciples,  —  a  free  paraphrase  of  Matt, 
xxvi.  29  and  Luke  xxii.  18.  Not  one  of  these  passages,  in  the  context 
where  it  occurs,  would  naturally  lead  the  reader  to  presuppose  any  othei 
sourco  of  them  than  the  canonical  Gospels. 

1  Apol.,  i.  67.  2  Ibid.,  ii.  31.  *  IrenaBus,  Adv.  Eher.,  ii.  22,  5,  iii.  3,  4 


198  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BEL  \EF. 


life  of  Jesus  were  1883,  in  the  room  of  135,  the  termi¬ 
nation  of  the  apostle’s  life  would  be  set  no  farther  back 
from  us  than  1846.  Justin  incidentally  remarks,  that 
many  men  and  women  sixty  or  seventy  years  old,  who 
had  been  Christians  from  their  youth,  were  to  be  found 
in  the  churches.1  Many  of  his  Christian  contemporaries 
could  remember  as  far  back  as  the  closing  decades  cf 
the  first  century.  Is  it  reasonable  to  believe  that  hi 
the  interval  between  John  and  Justin,  in  the  organized 
Christian  societies  of  Syria,  Asia  Minor,  and  Italy,  with 
which  Justin  is  considered  to  have  been  conversant,  the 
established  conception  of  the  life  of  Jesus,  of  his  doings 
and  sayings,  underwent  an  essential  alteration  ? 

Before  bringing  forward  direct  proof  that  the  Mem¬ 
oirs  were  the  Gospels  of  the  canon,  it  is  well  to  notice  a 
rival  theory  which  has  been  advanced  to  disprove  this 
hypothesis.  Partly  on  the  basis  of  the  uncanonical  pas¬ 
sages  in  Justin,  and  partly  on  another  ground  soon  to 
be  mentioned,  certain  critics  have  contended  that  the 
mass  of  his  quotations  were  derived  from  some  other 
Gospel  than  the  four ;  in  particular,  from  the  Gospel  of 
the  Hebrews,  or  from  an  apocryphal  Gospel  of  Peter, 
which  has  been  assumed,  without  evidence,  to  have 
been  a  form  of  that  Gospel.  There  was  an  Aramaic 
gospel,  commonly  called  “  the  Gospel  according  to  the 
Hebrews,”  which  was  extensively  used  by  Jewish  Chris¬ 
tians  in  Palestine  and  Syria.  Hegesippus  (about  A.D. 
150)  is  said  by  Eusebius  to  have  borrowed  some  things 
from  it.2  It  is  referred  to  by  Clement  of  Alexandria.3 
Origen  also  cites  from  it;4  and  Jerome  translated  it 
into  Greek  and  Latin.6  It  owed  its  repute  mainly  to  a 

1  Apol.,  i.  15.  2  H.  E.,  iv.  22.  8  Strom.,  ii.  9. 

*  Comment,  in  Johann.,  tom.  iv. ;  Homil.  in  Jerem.,  15- 

•  De  Vir.  Ill.,  c.  2. 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD 


199 


prevalent  idea  that  it  was  the  original  of  the  Gospel  of 
Matthew.  This  may,  perhaps,  have  been  true  of  it  in 
its  primitive  form ;  for  it  underwent  various  modifica¬ 
tions.  In  all  its  forms,  however,  it  retained  its  affinity 
to  our  first  Gospel.  It  is  evident  from  the  fragments 
that  remain,  twenty-two  of  which  have  been  collected 
by  Hilgenfeld,1  that  the  canonical  Gospel  is  the  original, 
and  that  the  deviations  from  it  in  parallel  texts  in  the 
Gospel  of  the  Hebrews  are  of  a  later  date.  “  The  frag¬ 
ments  preserved  in  Greek,”  says  Professor  Lipsius,  “by 
Epiphaniirs  ”  —  which  are  tinged  with  Essa3an  doctrine, 
and  have  some  statements  also  coincident  with  Luke  — 
“  betray  very  clearly  their  dependence  on  our  canonical 
Gospels ;  though  it  is  impossible,  on  the  other  hand,  to 
prove  that  the  Hebrew  text  was  a  translation  back  into 
Aramaic  from  the  Greek.  The  Aramaic  fragments  also 
contain  much  that  can  be  explained  and  understood 
only  on  the  hypothesis  that  it  is  a  recasting  of  the 
canonical  text.”  2  All  that  we  know  of  the  Gospel  of 
Peter  is  from  a  statement,  preserved  in  Eusebius,  of 
Serapion,  who  was  bishop  of  Antioch  at  the  end  of  the 
second,  and  beginning  of  the  third  century.  lie  had 
found  this  book  in  use  in  the  town  of  Rhossus  in  Cili¬ 
cia.  It  favored  the  heresy  of  Docetism,  although  in  the 
main  orthodox.3  There  is  no  proof  that  it  was  a  narra¬ 
tive.  It  was  probably  of  a  doctrinal  cast.  Eusebius4 
and  Jerome5  refer  to  it  as  an  heretical  book  which  no 
early  teacher  of  the  church  had  made  use  of.  Justin 
in  one  passage,  recording  an  incident  respecting  Peter, 

1  Nov.  Test.,  extra  can.  recept.,  fasc.  iv.  pp.  5-38.  Mr.  E.  B.  Nichol¬ 
son  thinks  that  thirty-three  can  he  discovered.  See  The  Gospel  accord¬ 
ing  to  the  Hebrews,  etc.,  pp.  28-77. 

2  Smith  and  Wace’s  Diet,  of  Christ.  Biogr.,  art.  Gospels  Apocryphal, 

vol.  L,  p.  710. 

8  Eusebius,  H.  E.,  vi.  12.  4  H.  E.,  iii.  25.  6  De  Yir.  Ill.,  L 


200  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


professes  to  derive  it  from  “  his  Gospel.” 1  The  inci¬ 
dent  is  found  nowhere  except  in  the  canonical  Gospel 
of  Mark.  If  the  usual  reading  is  correct,  there  is  no 
reason  to  question  that  this  is  the  Gospel  to  which 
Justin  here  refers.  But  there  are  grounds  for  the  opin¬ 
ion  that  the  text  should  be  amended  by  substituting 
the  plural  of  the  pronoun  for  the  singular,  and  that  the 
reference  is,  as  ordinarily  in  Justin,  to  the  memoirs  of 
“  the  apostles.” 2 

About  forty  years  ago,  Credner,  a  theologian  of  Gies¬ 
sen,  published  his  critical  works  on  the  New  Testament, 
in  which  the  quotations  of  Justin  were  collected  and 
tabulated.  The  judgment  of  this  scholar  did  not  in 
every  case  keep  pace  with  his  learning.  He  held  that 
the  first  three  Gospels  were  in  the  hands  of  Justin,  and 
he  believed  in  the  Johannine  authorship  of  the  fourth; 
but  he  attributed  an  exaggerated  influence  to  the  Jew- 
ish-Christian  Gospels,  and  broached  the  opinion  that 
Justin  drew  the  main  portion  of  his  quotations  from 
them.  The  Tubingen  doctors  started  with  the  facts 
and  data  of  Credner,  and  proceeded  to  push  his  theory 
to  the  extreme  of  excluding  altogether  the  canonical 
Gospels  from  the  circle  of  Justin’s  authorities.  The 
author  of  Supernatural  Religion  treads  closely  in  their 
footsteps.  He  attributes  Justin’s  quotations  to  an  Ebi- 
onite  document  that  has  passed  away.  One  argument 
for  this  view  is  from  the  character  of  the  verbal  de¬ 
viations  in  Justin’s  quotations  from  the  text  of  the 
Gospels.  This  argument  is  destitute  of  force.  His 
quotations  are  not  more  inexact  than  those  of  other 
Fathers  which  are  known  to  be  derived  from  the  canoni¬ 
cal  Gospels.  In  one  of  the  most  striking  instances  of 
inexact  quotation  (Matt.  x.  2T ;  cf.  Luke  x.  22)  the 

1  Dial.,  c.  106.  2  See  Otto’s  note  (10),  ad  loc. 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


201 


dame  variations  from  the  canonical  text  are  found  in 
Clement  of  Alexandria,  Origen,  and  Irenaeus.1  In 
repeated  instances,  Justin  attributes  passages  to  one 
prophet  which  belong  to  another.2  He  quotes  the  Old 
Testament  and  heathen  writers  with  the  same  sort  of 
freedom.  Where  Justin  varies  from  the  Septuagint,  he 
often  varies  in  different  places  in  the  same  manner. 
Hence  uniformity  of  variation  does  not  in  the  least 
warrant  the  inference  of  the  use  of  other  books  than 
the  Gospels.  The  main  argument  which  is  relied  on  to 
prove  the  non-canonical  source  of  Justin’s  quotations 
is  the  alleged  identity  of  some  of  them  which  deviate 
from  the  canonical  text  with  quotations  in  the  Clemen¬ 
tine  Homilies,  which  are  assumed  to  be  from  a  Hebrew 
gospel.  The  answer  to  this  is  conclusive.  First,  the 
author  of  the  Homilies  used  the  synoptical  Gospels,  and 
he  presents  at  least  one  passage  which  is  undeniably 
from  John.  But,  secondly,  the  alleged  identity  does 
not  exist.  The  premise  of  the  argument  is  false.  Of 
Justin’s  quotations  generally,  it  is  true,  that,  so  far  from 
tallying  with  those  of  the  Homilies,  they  differ  verbally 
from  them  as  widely  as  the  same  quotations  differ  from 
the  literal  text  of  our  evangelists.  Of  the  five  quota¬ 
tions  on  which  the  argument  for  identity  of  origin  rests, 
it  has  been  demonstrated  that  there  is  no  such  resem¬ 
blance  as  the  argument  assumes  to  exist.3  What  can 
be  the  worth  of  reasoning,  which,  were  it  valid,  would 
compel  us  to  hold  that  Jeremy  Taylor  drew  his  knowl* 

1  See  Semiscli,  p.  367. 

3  E.g.,  Apol.,  i.  53,  where  a  passage  in  Isaiah  is  credited  to  Jeremiah. 

8  See  Professor  E.  Abbot,  Authorship  of  the  Fourth  Gospel,  p.  31 
seq.,  100  seq.  Professor  Abbot’s  exhaustive  investigation  has  settled 
the  question  of  the  derivation  of  the  passage  in  Justin  on  regeneration 
(Apol.,  i.  61)  from  John  iii.  3-5.  Cf.,  on  Justin  and  the  Clementines, 
Westcott,  Hist,  of  the  Canon,  p.  129  seq.,  and  note  D,  p.  155;  Dr.  E.  A 
Abbot,  Enc.  Brit.,  vol.  x.  p.  818. 


202  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


edge  of  the  teachings  and  acts  of  Christ,  not  from  the 
Gospels  of  the  canon,  but  from  a  lost  Ebionitic  docu¬ 
ment?  On  this  subject  Professor  Lipsius,  a  scholar 
admitted  to  be  free  from  the  apologetic  bias  which  is  so 
freely  and  often  so  groundlessly  imputed  to  defenders 
of  the  genuineness  of  the  Gospels,  says,  “  The  attempt 
to  prove  that  the  two  writers  [Justin  and  the  author  of 
the  Homilies]  had  one  such  extra-canonical  authority 
common  to  them  both,  either  in  the  Gospel  of  the 
Hebrews  or  in  the  Gospel  of  St.  Peter ,  has  altogether 
failed.”  “Herewith,”  observes  the  same  writer,  “fall 
to  the  ground  all  those  hypotheses  which  make  the 
Gospel  of  Peter  into  an  original  work  made  use  of  by 
Justin  Martyr,  nigh  related  to  the  Gospel  of  the  Hebrews , 
and  either  the  Jewish-Christian  basis  of  our  canonical 
St.  Mark,  or,  at  any  rate,  the  gospel  of  the  Gnosticizing 
Ebionites.”  1  Certain  passages  of  Scripture  are  not  un- 
frequently  misquoted  in  the  same  way,  owing  to  causes 
which  in  each  case  are  readily  explained.  There  are,  so 
to  speak,  stereotyped  errors  of  quotation.  Another  occa¬ 
sion  of  greater  or  less  uniformity  in  verbal  deviations 
from  the  text  as  we  have  it  is  the  diversity  of  manu¬ 
scripts.  Attention  to  the  ordinary  operations  of  mem¬ 
ory,  and  more  familiarity  with  textual  criticism,  would 
have  kept  out  untenable  theories  of  the  kind  just  re¬ 
viewed. 

Justin  was  a  native  of  Palestine.  He  may  have  been 
acquainted  with  the  Gospel  of  the  Hebrews,  as  other 
Fathers  were.  He  may  have  read  in  it  that  Jesus  made 
ploughs  and  yokes,  and  that  a  fire  was  kindled  in  the 
Jordan  at  his  baptism,  although  this  last  tradition  is 
differently  given  in  that  Gospel.2  There  :is  no  proof, 

1  Diet,  of  Christ.  Biogr.,  vol.  ii.  p.  712. 

a  See  Nicholson,  The  Gospel  of  the  Hebrews,  etc.,  p  40.  The  state- 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


203 


however,  that  he  picked  up  these  circumstances  from 
any  written  source.  They  were  probably  afloat  in  ora1 
tradition  before  they  found  their  way  into  books.  But 
there  is  decisive  proof  that  the  Gospel  of  the  Hebrews 
was  not  one  of  the  Memoirs  which  were  his  authorita¬ 
tive  sources.  That  was  a  gospel  of  Judaic  sectaries, 
and  Justin  was  not  an  Ebionite.  There  is  not  a  shadow 
of  reason  to  suppose  that  the  Gospel  of  the  Hebrews 
was  ever  read  in  the  churches  which  he  must  have  had 
most  prominently  in  mind.  It  is  only  necessary  to  ob¬ 
serve  how  he  describes  the  Memoirs ,  to  be  convinced 
that  the  Gospels  of  the  canon  are  meant.  He  speaks 
of  them  as  composed  by  “  the  apostles  and  their  com¬ 
panions,”  and  this  he  does  in  connection  with  a  quo¬ 
tation  which  is  found  in  Luke.1  This  accounts  for  his 
adding  the  term  “  companions  ”  to  his  usual  designa¬ 
tion  of  these  documents.  This  is  the  same  mode  of 
describing  the  Gospels  which  we  find  in  Tertullian  and 
in  other  later  writers.2  In  one  place,  in  the  dialogue  with 
Tryplio,  he  calls  them  collectively  “the  Gospel,”  —  a 
term  applied  to  the  contents  of  the  four,  taken  together, 
by  Irenteus  and  Tertullian  in  the  same  century.  He 
says,  however,  expressly  that  they  are  called  u  Gospels.”3 
Apart  from  this  explicit  statement,  it  is  preposterous  to 
imagine  that  Justin  can  have  one  document  only  in 
mind  in  his  references  to  the  Memoirs .  Was  that 
document  the  joint  production  of  the  “apostles  and 
their  companions  ”  ?  This  would  be  a  case  of  multiple 
authorship  without  a  parallel  in  literature.  If  the 
hypothesis  of  the  author  of  Supernatural  Religion 
were  tenable,  we  should  have  to  hold  that  a  gospel 

meat  is  found,  for  substance,  in  two  ancient  Latin  MSS.,  and  is  perhaps 
alluded  to  by  Juvencus,  a  Christian  writer  of  the  fourth  century. 

1  Dial.,  c.  103.  5  See  Tertullian,  Adv.  Marc.,  iv.  2.  8  ApoL,  i.  66. 


204  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRIS'!  IAN  BELIEF. 


comprising  in  itself  the  contents  of  the  four  of  the 
canon  was  read,  in  the  middle  of  the  second  century, 
in  the  churches  “in  city  and  country,”  and  was  then, 
within  a  score  of  years,  silently  superseded  by  four 
Gospels  of  unknown  authorship,  among  which  its  con¬ 
tents  were  distributed.  The  ancient  document  of  estab¬ 
lished  authority  vanished  as  if  by  magic  at  the  advent 
of  these  new-comers,  among  whom  it  was  somehow  par¬ 
titioned  !  And  this  miraculous  exchange,  which  took 
place  when  Irenaeus  was  not  far  from  thirty  years  old, 
occurred  without  his  knowledge  !  Such  an  hypothesis 
is  too  heavy  a  tax  on  credulity.  Scholars  of  all  types 
of  opinion  are  now  disposed  to  accept  the  conclusion, 
which  should  never  have  been  disputed,  that  Justin  used 
all  the  Gospels  of  the  canon ;  and  it  is  safe  to  predict 
that  there  will  be  a  like  unanimity  in  the  conviction 
that  it  is  these  alone  which  he  designates  as  Memoirs 
by  the  Apostles  and  their  Companions. 

The  proposition  that  Justin’s  Memoirs  were  the  four 
Gospels  is  corroborated,  if  it  stood  in  need  of  further 
support,  by  the  fact  that  Tatian,  who  had  been  his 
hearer,  and  speaks  of  him  with  admiration,1  wrote  a 
Harmony  of  the  Four  Gospels.  Tatian  is  intermediate 
between  Justin  and  Irenoeus.  He  flourished  as  an  au¬ 
thor  between  A.D.  155  and  170.  In  his  extant  Address 
to  the  Creeks  are  passages  evidently  drawn  from  John’s 
Gospel.2  Eusebius  says,  that,  “  having  formed  a  certain 
combination  and  bringing-together  of  Gospels,  —  I  know 
not  how,  —  he  has  given  this  the  title  Diatesseron ; 
that  is,  the  gospel  by  the  four,”  etc.  The  expression 
“I  know  not  how”  implies,  not  that  Eusebius  had  not 
seen  the  book,  but  that  the  plan  seemed  strange  to 

1  H.  E.,  iv.  29  ;  Tatian,  Orat.  ad  Grsecos,  c.  18. 

a  Cc.  4,  5,  13,  19. 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


205 


him.1  At  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century  Theodoret 
tells  us  that  he  had  found  two  hundred  copies  of  the 
work  in  circulation,  and  had  taken  them  away,  substi¬ 
tuting  for  them  the  four  Gospels.  A  Syrian  writer, 
Bar  Salibi,  in  the  twelfth  century,  had  seen  the  work : 
lie  distinguishes  it  from  another  Harmony  by  Ammo- 
nius ;  and  he  testifies  that  it  began  with  the  words,  “In 
the  beginning  was  the  Word.”  A  commentary  on  this 
Diatesseron,  Bar  Salibi  states,  had  been  made  in  the 
fourth  century  by  Epbraem  Syrus.  This  is  not  all  the 
evidence  in  support  of  the  assertion  of  Eusebius  on  this 
subject.  The  recent  discussion  by  Bishop  Lightfoot 
has  placed  beyond  reasonable  doubt  the  correctness  of 
it.  More  recently  still,  the  commentary  of  Ephraem  of 
Syria  has  been  published  in  a  Latin  translation  from 
the  Armenian.2  The  composition  of  such  a  work,  in 
which  the  four  Gospels  were  probably  worked  together 
into  one  narrative,  is  an  independent  proof  of  the  rec¬ 
ognition  which  they  enjoyed,  and  is  an  additional  proof 
that  the  same  Gospels  constituted  the  Memoirs  of  Justin. 

There  were  a  few  writings,  not  included  in  the  canon, 
which  were  sometimes  read  in  the  early  churches  for 
purposes  of  edification ;  and  some  of  these  were  held  by 
some  of  the  Fathers  to  have  a  certain  claim  to  inspira¬ 
tion.  In  this  list  are  embraced  the  Epistle  ascribed  to 
Barnabas,  the  Epistle  of  Clement  of  Borne,  and  the 
Shepherd  of  Hermas.  A  book  of  much  less  note,  an 
Epistle  of  Soter,  bishop  of  Rome,  is  also  said  to  have 
been  sometimes  read  in  churches ;  and  there  are  some 
traces  of  a  similar  use  of  an  Apocalypse  of  Peter ,  which 
Eusebius  and  Jerome  brand  as  apocryphal.  Not  one  of 

1  See  Lightfoot,  Contemporary  Review  for  May,  1877,  p.  113G. 

2  See  Zakn’s  Tatian’3  Diatesseron  (1881).  On  its  date,  seo  Harnack’s 
Die  Uberlieferung  de’’  griechischen  Apologcten  d.  2tn  Jalirh.  (1882). 


^06  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


these  books  was  a  narrative.  None  of  them  ever  had 
any  thing  like  the  standing  of  the  documents  which 
recorded  the  facts  in  the  public  ministry  of  Christ,  on 
which  the  very  life  of  the  church  depended.  They 
were  read  in  some  of  the  churches  for  a  time ;  but  even 
Fathers  who  regard  them  with  honor,  as  is  seen  in  the 
example  of  Clement  of  Alexandria,  do  not  hesitate  to 
criticise  their  teaching.1  The  Memoirs  of  Justin  were 
narratives,  placed  by  all  the  churches  on  a  level  with 
the  prophets  of  the  Old  Testament.2  The  gradual  sep¬ 
aration  of  the  didactic  writings  whose  titles  have  been 
given  from  the  books  of  the  canon  does  not  in  the  least 
help  us  to  comprehend  how  the  documents  referred  to 
by  Justin  could  have  been  expelled  from  the  churches, 
and  perished  out  of  sight. 

It  is  sometimes  imagined,  if  not  asserted,  that  there 
were  apocryphal  Gospels  which  were  widely  used  in 
the  churches  of  the  second  century,  and  shared  in  the 
esteem  accorded  to  the  four  of  the  canon.  This  is  a 
groundless  impression.  The  apocryphal  Gospels  which 
are  now  extant,  relating  to  the  nativity  and  childhood 
of  Jesus,  and  to  the  Virgin  Mary,  never  pretended  to 
be  any  thing  more  than  supplements  to  the  received 
Gospels.  They  are  of  a  much  later  date  than  the  age 
of  Justin.  It  has  been  thought  by  some  that  two  or 
three  of  them  existed  in  an  earlier,  rudimental  form  at 
that  day.3  Such  was  the  opinion  of  Tischendorf.  But 

1  Clement  (Paid.,  ii.  10,  ed.  Potter,  p.  220)  dissents  from  a  statement 
of  Barnabas  (c.  x.).  Origen  more  definitely  separates  these  writings 
from  those  which  are  authoritative.  Cf.  Bleek,  Einl.  in  d.  N.  T.,  p.  755. 
Yet  at  Alexandria  there  was  a  stronger  tendency  to  accept  writings  cf 
this  class  than  existed  elsewhere  in  the  church. 

2  Apol.,  i.  67. 

8  It  may  be  well  to  state  what  apocryphal  Gospels  present  the  slight¬ 
est  plausible  claim  to  great  antiquity 

The  Prot/ivangelium  of  James  treats  of  the  nativity  of  Marv.  Origea 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


207 


even  this  is  doubtful.  The  Gospel  of  the  Hebrews,  or 
the  Hebrew  St.  Matthew,  in  its  various  redactions,  had 
a  wide  acceptance  among  the  different  Jewish  sects. 
But,  this  Gospel  and  Marcion’s  mutilated  Luke  except¬ 
ed,  there  were  no  uncanonical  gospel  narratives  which 
we  have  reason  to  think  had  any  extensive  circulation 
among  professed  Christians.  There  were  no  rivals  of 
the  Memoirs  to  which  Justin  referred.  Numerous  books 
were  fabricated  among  heretical  parties ;  but,  though 
they  might  bear  the  name  of  “  Gospels,”  they  were  gen¬ 
erally  of  a  didactic  nature.  This  is  the  case  with  The 
Gospel  of  the  Truth ,  which  Irenseus  and  Tertullian 
inform  us  had  been  composed  by  the  Valentinians. 
It  is  a  powerful  argument  for  the  genuineness  of  the 
canonical  Gospels,  that  the  Gnostics  are  constantly 
charged  with  bolstering  up  their  doctrines  by  perverse 
interpretation  of  the  Gospels,  but  are  not  accused  of 
bringing  forward  narratives  of  their  own  at  variance 
with  them.  On  this  subject  Professor  Norton  remarks : 

refers  to  it  by  name  (in  Matt.,  tom.  x.  17,  ed.  Migne,  vol.  iii.  p.  875)* 
but  it  could  not  be  the  existing  book  that  he  used,  as  is  shown  by  Pro¬ 
fessor  Lipsius,  Diet,  of  Christ.  Biogr.,  ii.  702.  Clement  of  Alexandria 
(Strom.,  vii.)  is  thought  to  have  referred  to  it.  There  is  no  proof  that 
Justin  (in  Dial.,  c.  78)  borrowed  from  it.  Says  Professor  Lipsius,  “  There 
is,  indeed,  no  clear  warrant  for  the  existence  of  our  present  text  of  the 
Protevangelium  prior  to  the  time  of  Peter  of  Alexandria  (311).”  Gnos¬ 
tic  and  Ebionitic  features  are  mingled  in  it. 

The  Acta  Pilati  forms  the  first  part  of  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus. 
Justin  (Apol.,  i.  28,  36)  refers  to  the  Acts  of  Pilate,  as  does  Tertullian 
(Apol.,  21;  cf.  5).  Both  have  in  mind,  probably,  not  any  book,  but  an 
official  report,  which  they  assume  to  exist  in  the  public  archives  at 
Rome.  Eusebius  (H.  E.,  ii.  2)  refers  to  a  blasphemous  Pagan  forgery 
under  this  same  title,  which  was  of  recent  origin.  The  first  trace  of  the 
present  Acts  of  Pilate  is  in  Epiphanius  (A.D.  376),  Haer.,  50,  1. 

A  Gospel  of  St.  Thomas  is  referred  to  by  Origen  (Horn,  in  Luc.,  i.). 
It  was  used  by  the  Gnostic  sects  of  Marcosians  and  Naassenes  (Hippol. , 
Ref.  Omn.  LLer.,  v.  2;  cf.  Irenseus,  Adv.  Hser.,  i.  20,  1).  Portions  of  this 
book  may  exist  in  the  extant  Gospel  of  the  same  name.  It  relates  tc 
the  boyhood  of  Christ. 


208  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


“  Irenseus  and  Tertullian  were  the  two  principal  writers 
against  the  Gnostics ;  and  from  their  works  it  does  not 
appear  that  the  Valentinians,  the  Marcionites,  or  any 
other  Gnostic  sect,  adduced,  in  support  of  their  opin¬ 
ions,  a  single  narrative  relating  to  the  public  ministry 
of  Christ,  besides  what  is  found  in  the  Gospels.  It  does 
not  appear  that  they  ascribed  to  him  a  single  sentence 
of  any  imaginable  importance  which  the  evangelists 
have  not  transmitted.  It  does  not  appear  that  any  sect 
appealed  to  the  authority  of  any  history  of  his  public 
ministry  besides  the  Gospels,  except  so  far  as  the  Mar¬ 
cionites,  in  their  use  of  an  imperfect  copy  of  St.  Luke’s 
Gospel,  may  be  regarded  as  forming  a  verbal  excej  tion 
to  this  remark.”  1 

With  the  exception  of  the  Valentinian  Gospel  of 
Truth ,  the  reference  to  which  is  contained  in  a  dis¬ 
puted  passage  of  Tertullian,  it  is  true,  as  Professor 
Norton  states,  that  this  Father  u  nowhere  speaks  of  any 
apocryphal  Gospel,  or  intimates  a  knowledge  of  the  ex¬ 
istence  of  such  a  book.”2  In  all  the  writers  of  the 
first  three  centuries,  there  are  not  more  quotations  pro¬ 
fessedly  derived  from  apocryphal  books  called  by  them 
Gospels  than  can  be  counted  on  the  fingers  of  one  hand.3 

1  Genuineness  of  the  Gospels,  iii.  222. 

2  Ibid.,  iii.  227.  Tertullian  expressly  states  that  Valentinus  used  all 
the  four  Gospels  (De  Prescript.  H?er.,  c.  38).  On  the  sense  of  videtur  in 
the  passages,  see  Professor  E.  Abbot,  Authorship  of  the  Fourth  Gospel, 
p.  81,  not©. 

8  The  following  is  a  list  of  them.  Origen  once  quotes  a  statement 
from  the  Gospel  of  Peter  (Comment,  in  Matt.,  tom.  x.  402,  4G3).  Clement 
of  Alexandria  twice  reiers  to  statements  'n  the  Gospel  of  the  Egyptians 
(Strom.,  iii.  9,  13).  In  the  so-called  II.  Ep.  of  Clement  of  Romo  are 
several  pasages  thought  to  he  from  this  Gospel,  hut  the  source  is  not 
named.  See  Lightfoot’s  Clement,  pp.  192,  193,  297  seq.,  311.  Clement  of 
Alexandria  thrice  (Strom.,  ii.  9,  iii.  4,  vii.  13)  cites  passages  from  The 
Traditions,  which  was  not  improbably  another  name  of  the  Gospel  ol 
Matthias. 

Of  these  authors  Pseudo-Clement  is  the  only  one  who  seems  to  ai- 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


209 


These  citations  in  the  Fathers,  however,  involve  no  sanc¬ 
tion  of  the  books  from  which  they  are  taken.  Clem¬ 
ent  of  Alexandria  quotes  the  Gospel  of  the  Egyptians 
but  he  quotes  it  to  condemn  it.  If  in  the  second  cen 
tury,  as  well  as  later,  the  Gospels  of  the  canon  were 
not  the  authorities  from  which  the  Church  derived  its 
knowledge  of  the  life  and  teachings  of  Jesus,  there  is 
no  known  source  whence  that  knowledge  could  have 
been  obtained. 

Celsus,  the  most  distinguished  literary  opponent  of 
Christianity  in  the  second  century,  may  be  joined  with 
the  Gnostics  as  an  indirect  witness  for  the  Gospels  of 
the  canon.  He  wrote,  perhaps,  as  early  as  Marcus  An¬ 
toninus  (A.D.  188-161)  ;  but  if,  as  Keim  thinks,  he  com¬ 
posed  his  book  under  Marcus  Aurelius,  in  A.D.  178,  he 
was  a  contemporary  of  Irenaeus.1  He  had  the  Christian 
literature  before  him.  He  showed  no  lack  of  industry 
in  searching  out  whatever  could  be  made  to  tell  against 
the  Christian  cause.  As  in  the  case  of  Justin,  the  gos¬ 
pel  history  can  be  constructed  out  of  the  passages  cited 
from  Celsus  by  Origen.2  But  there  is  not  an  incident 
or  a  saying  which  professes  to  be  taken  from  Christian 
authorities  that  is  not  found  in  the  canonical  Gospels.3 


tribute  authority  to  the  book  to  which  he  refers.  The  Gospel  of  the 
Egyptians  was  used  by  an  ascetic  sect,  the  Encratites  (Clem.  Alex., 
iii.  9).  The  Encratite  tendencies  of  the  Homily  of  Pseudo-Clement 
are  noticed  by  Bishop  Lightfoot,  Clement  of  Rome  :  Appendix,  p.  311. 

1  Keim,  Celsus’  Walires  Wort,  p.  273. 

2  See  the  summaries  of  the  work  of  Celsus,  by  Doddridge  and  Leland, 
In  lardner’s  Credibility,  etc.,  ii.  27  seq.,  and  the  work  of  Keim,  as 
above. 

3  Origen  (Adv.  Cel.,  ii.  74)  says,  “  Now  we  have  proved  that  many 
foolish  assertions,  opposed  to  the  narratives  of  our  Gospels,  occur  in 
tlio  statements  of  the  Jew  ”  [in  Celsus],  etc.  But  these  “  foolish  asser¬ 
tions,”  as  an  inspection  of  the  previous  portion  of  Origen’s  work  de¬ 
monstrates,  are  comments  on  the  gospel  history,  not  pretending  to  come 
from  any  Gospels. 


210  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEIS1IC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


Wit] i  all  of  these,  as  Keim,  allows,1  he  shows  himself 
acquainted.  Had  there  been  apocryphal  Gospels  which 
had  attained  to  any  considerable  circulation  in  the 
Church,  even  at  a  date  thirty  or  forty  years  previous  to 
the  time  when  he  wrote,  this  astute  controversialist 
would  have  found  copies  of  them,  and  would  have 
availed  himself  of  the  welcome  aid  to  be  derived  from 
their  inventions. 

Passing  by  other  proofs,  we  proceed  to  consider  one 
testimony  to  the  Gospels  which  carries  us  back  into 
the  company  of  the  immediate  followers  of  Christ.  It 
is  that  of  Papias,  bishop  of  Hierapolis.  He  is  spoken 
of  by  Irenseus  as  “a  man  of  the  old  time.”2  He  was  a 
contemporary  of  Polycarp,8  who  was  born  A.D.  69,  and 
died  A.D.  155.  He  had  also  known  the  daughters  of 
Philip,  —  either  the  apostle,  or  (less  probably)  the  evan¬ 
gelist.4  He  is  said  by  Irenseus  to  have  been  a  disciple 
of  John  the  Apostle ;  but  a  doubt  is  cast  on  the  correct¬ 
ness  of  this  statement  by  Eusebius.5  This  is  certain, 
that  he  knew  Aristion,  and  John  the  Presbyter,  —  two 
immediate  disciples  of  Jesus,6  who  probably  formed  a 
part  of  a  company  of  apostles  and  their  followers  who 
left  Palestine  for  Asia  Minor  about  A.D.  67,  on  the 
outbreak  of  the  Jewish  war.  In  the  passages  which 
Eusebius  has  preserved  from  Papias,  he  speaks  only  of 
Mark  and  Matthew.  The  silence  of  Eusebius,  however, 
as  to  any  mention  of  Luke  and  John  by  Papias,  has 
been  demonstrated  not  to  imply,  in  the  least,  that  these 
Gospels  were  not  referred  to  and  used  by  him.7  The 
avowed  purpose  of  Eusebius  in  these  notices,  and  his 
practice  in  other  similar  cases,  would  not  lead  us  to  ex- 

1  P.  230.  2  Adv.  H?er.,  v.  33,  4.  3  Irenneus,  1.  c. 

4  Eusebius,  II.  E.,  iii.  39.  5  Eusebius,  1.  c.  6  Ibid 

7  See  Liglitfoot,  Contemporary  Review,  January,  1875. 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


211 


pect  any  allusion  to  what  Papias  might  say  of  the  otliei 
Gospels,  unless  it  were  something  new,  or  of  special 
interest.  Now,  Papias  was  informed  by  John  the  Pres¬ 
byter,  a  contemporary  of  the  apostle  of  the  same  name 
at  Ephesus,  that  Mark  was  the  interpreter  of  Peter,  and 
wrote  down  accurately  what  he  heard  Peter  relate  of 
the  sayings  and  doings  of  Jesus.  The  same  statement 
respecting  the  relation  of  Mark  to  Peter,  and  the  origin 
of  the  second  Gospel,  is  made  by  Clement  of  Alexan¬ 
dria,1  Irenseus,2  and  Tertullian.3  It  was  the  undisputed 
belief  of  the  ancient  church.  It  is  borne  out  by  the 
internal  traits  of  Mark’s  Gospel.4  It  would  seem  as  if 
there  could  be  no  doubt  in  regard  to  the  book  of  which 
Papias  is  speaking.  Yet  it  has  been  maintained  by 
some,  that  a  primitive  Mark,  of  which  the  Gospel  of 
the  canon  is  an  expansion,  is  the  work  referred  to. 
Most  of  these  critics,  to  be  sure,  including  Professor 
Holtzmann,  have  made  the  primitive  Gospel  embrace 
the  main  parts  of  our  Mark.  On  what  is  this  theory 
founded  ?  First,  on  the  statement  in  Papias,  that 
Mark,  though  he  omitted  nothing  that  he  heard,  but 
reported  it  accurately,  was  precluded  from  recording 
“  in  order  ”  (er  rd£«)  the  matter  thus  derived  from  the 
oral  addresses  of  Deter.  But  this  remark  is,  no  doubt, 
founded  on  a  comparison  of  Mark  with  Matthew, 
where  the  sayings  of  Christ  are  often  differently  dis¬ 
posed  ;  or  with  Luke,  who  specially  aimed  at  an  orderly 
arrangement ;  or,  as  Bishop  Lightfoot  thinks,  with 
John,  where  the  sequence  of  events  is  mere  carefully 
preserved.6  It  may  be  nothing  more  than  a  subject:’  re 

1  Eusebius,  II.  E.,  ii.  15.  2  Irenreus,  Adv.  IRer.,  iii.  10,  G 

3  Adv.  Marc.,  iv.  5.  4  See  Weiss,  Marcuse  vangelium,  Einl.,  p.  2 

5  Contemporary  Review,  October,  1875.  “  Per  ordinem  profitetur,” 

says  the  Muratorian  canon,  after  referring  to  Mark  in  terms  like  those 
used  by  Papias. 


212  TIIE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


impression  of  Papias  or  of  his  informant.  There  is  1.0 
sign  that  either  Papias  himself,  or  Eusebius,  or  Clement, 
or  Irenseus,  or  any  other  ancient  writer,  had  heard  of 
any  other  book  by  Mark  than  our  second  Gospel.  It 
is  morally  impossible  that  any  other  Mark  could  have 
existed  in  the  time  of  Papias  and  Polycarp,  and  have 
been  silently  superseded  by  the  Gospel  of  the  canon, 
without  any  knowledge  of  the  fact  reaching  Irenseus 
and  his  contemporaries.  The  second  reason  given  for 
the  conjecture  respecting  an  earlier  Gospel  of  Maik 
is  founded  on  a  certain  hypothesis  as  to  the  relation 
of  the  synoptical  Gospels  to  one  another,  and  to  the 
authorship  of  the  first  of  them.  It  is  assumed  by 
the  critics  of  whom  we  are  speaking,  that  Matthew’s 
authorship  extended  only  to  the  compilation  of  the  dis¬ 
courses  of  Jesus,  and  that  the  narrative  portion  of  his 
Gospel  is  from  another  hand.  Papias  states  that  “Mat¬ 
thew  wrote  the  oracles  (r a  Aoyia)  in  the  Hebrew  tongue, 
and  every  one  interpreted  them  as  he  could.”  It  is 
assumed  that  the  narrative  portion  of  the  first  Gospel 
is  mainly  derived  from  Mark ;  and  then,  from  the  fact 
that,  by  way  of  exception,  in  certain  passages  Matthew’s 
Gospel  appears  to  be  the  more  original  of  the  two,  it  is 
inferred  that  the  corresponding  passages  in  the  second 
Gospel  are  of  a  later  date  than  the  body  of  its  con¬ 
tents.  But  learned  writers,  such  as  Professor  Weiss, 
who  give  the  restricted  sense  to  the  term  Logia  as 
designating  the  discourses  of  Jesus,  still  maintain,  with 
reason,  that,  even  on  this  interpretation  of  the  term, 
narrative  matter  was,  to  some  degree,  associated  by  the 
Apostle  Matthew  with  his  record  of  the  sa}'ings  of 
Jesus.1  The  theory  of  a  primitive  Mark  is  thus  wholly 
gratuitous,  even  on  the  general  ground  taken  by  the 

1  See  liia  Matthausevangelium,  Einl.,  p.  17  scq. 


THE  GOSPELS  A  1  A  PITIFUL  RECORD. 


213 


critics  in  question  respecting  the  original  work  of  Mat¬ 
thew.1  But  the  confident  assertion  of  so  many  German 
critics  since  Schleiermacher,  that  the  Logici  of  Papias 
means  “discourses  ”  simply  —  things  said,  to  the  exclus¬ 
ion  of  things  done,  by  Jesus  —  is  not  proved  either  on 
philological  or  other  grounds.2  There  is  no  proof  that 
any  writer  of  the  second  century  made  the  distinction 
between  a  Matthew  composed  of  discourses  alone,  and 
the  Gospel  in  its  later  form.  Unless  the  use  of  the 
term  Logia  contains  decisive  evidence  to  the  contrary, 
we  must  conclude  that  Papias  intended  to  give  an  ac¬ 
count  of  the  composition  of  the  Gospel  in  its  present 
compass. 

If,  on  the  ground  that  Logia  in  Papias  is  interpreted 
to  mean  “discourses,”  or  for  other  reasons,  it  is  held 
that  the  Gospel  as  composed  by  Matthew  embraced 
only  the  teachings  of  Christ,  with  brief  historical  memo¬ 
randa  essential  to  an  intelligible  record  of  them,  and 
that,  on  the  basis  of  this  primitive  Matthew,  the  first 
Gospel  as  we  have  it  was  composed  by  another,  still 
this  later  author  stands  in  the  same  rank,  as  regards 
authority  and  credibility,  with  the  second  and  third 
evangelists.  The  date  of  the  work  as  it  now  stands  is 
determined,  as  will  be  seen,  by  internal  evidence  of  a 
conclusive  character.  So  much  is  clear,  that  the  writ¬ 
ing  to  which  Papias  refers  no  longer  had  need  to  be 
translated :  his  use  of  the  aorist  proves  that  that  neces¬ 
sity  was  a  thing  of  the  past.3 

1  The  theory  of  an  Ur-Markus  has  been  given  up  by  its  author,  Pro¬ 
fessor  Holtzmann.  See  Weiss’s  Leben  Jesu,  i.  32. 

2  See  Bishop  Lightfoot’s  remarks,  Contemp.  Review,  1875,  p.  399  seq. 

3  In  connection  with  the  testimony  of  Papias  to  the  first  Gospel,  it 
may  be  added,  that  in  the  Epistle  ascribed  to  Barnabas,  which  is  not 
later  than  A.D.  120,  a  passage  found  in  Matthew  is  introduced  by  the 
words,  “  As  it  is  written;”  which  were  usua  in  quoting  from  a  sacred 
scripture  (Barnabas  iv.  14). 


214  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THE1STIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


Although,  the  statements  cited  by  Eusebius  from 
Papias  relate  not  to  Luke,  but  to  Mark  and  Matthew, 
it  happens  that  there  is  nearly  contemporary  evidence 
of  striking  value  from  another  source.  Marcion  came 
from  Asia  Minor  to  Rome  about  A.D.  140.1  His  heresy 
involved  a  rejection  of  the  apostles,  with  the  exception 
of  Paul,  for  the  reason  that  he  deemed  them  tainted 
with  Judaic  error.  The  fathers  who  oppose  Marcion 
describe  him  as  having  rejected  the  Gospels,  with  the 
exception  of  Luke.  He  did  not  deny  that  the  other 
Gospels  were  genuine  productions  of  their  reputed 
authors  (there  is  no  hint  that  he  did);  but  he  selected 
Luke  as  his  authority,  he  having  been  an  associate  of 
Paul,  and  made  a  gospel  for  himself  by  cutting  out  of 
Luke’s  work  passages  which  he  considered  incongruous 
with  his  doctrinal  theories.2  That  Marcion’s  Gospel  was 
an  abridgment  of  our  Luke  is  now  conceded  on  all  hands, 
even  by  the  author  of  Supernatural  Religion.  Dr.  San- 
day  has  not  only  demonstrated  this  by  a  linguistic 
argument,  but  has  proved,  by  a  comparison  of  texts, 
that  the  Gospel  of  the  canon  must  have  been  for  some 
time  in  use,  and  have  attained  to  a  considerable  circu¬ 
lation,  before  Marcion  applied  to  it  his  pruning-knife.3 
There  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that  he  took  for  his  purpose 
a  Gospel  of  established  authority  in  the  church. 

But  we  have  Luke’s  own  unimpeachable  testimony. 
In  the  prologue  of  the  Gospel  he  states  that  his  in¬ 
formation  was  derived  from  the  immediate  disciples  of 
Christ.4  Unless  the  author  who  collected  and  preserved 

1  See  Justin;  Apol.,  i.  2G,  58. 

2  Tertullian,  De  Prescript.  Haerett.,  c.  38. 

3  The  Gospels  in  the  Second  Century,  chap.  viii.  The  priority  of 
Luke  to  Marcion’s  Gospel  is  admitted  in  the  seventh  edition  of  Super¬ 
natural  Religion. 

4  Luke  i.  2. 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


215 


such  passages  of  the  Saviour’s  teaching  as  the  parables 
of  the  Prodigal  Son  and  the  Good  Samaritan,  and  as 
the  story  of  the  Pharisee  and  the  Publican,  lied,  he  was 
an  associate  of  immediate  followers  of  Jesus.  More¬ 
over,  in  the  Acts,  which  undoubtedly  has  a  common 
authorship  with  the  Gospel,  he  distinctly  discloses  him¬ 
self,  though  in  a  perfectly  artless  and  incidental  way, 
as  having  been  a  companion  of  the  Apostle  Paul  in  a 
part  of  his  journeying.  There  is  no  other  explanation 
of  the  passages  in  which  the  writer  speaks  in  the  first 
person  plural,1  unless  an  intentional  fraud  is  imputed 
to  him ;  and  this  is  the  most  unreasonable  explanation 
of  all.  It  is  now  generally  conceded  that  Luke  is 
the  author  of  the  narrative  of  the  shipwreck  and  of  the 
connected  passages,  where  the  writer  speaks  in  the  first 
person.  For  a  later  writer  to  take  up  these  quotations, 
and,  still  more,  to  assimilate  them  to  his  own  style, 
would  be  a  flagrant  attempt  at  imposture.  Had  a  later 
writer  wished  to  cheat  his  readers  into  a  belief  that  he 
had  been  an  attendant  of  Paul,  he  would  not  have 
failed  to  make  his  pretension  more  prominent.  There 
is  the  same  consensus  in  the  tradition  respecting  the 
association  of  Luke  with  Paul  that  we  find  with  regard 
to  the  connection  of  Mark  with  Peter.2 

The  objection  that  was  formerly  made  by  the  Tiibin- 
gen  school  to  the  genuineness  of  the  third  Gospel  and 
of  the  Acts,  on  the  ground  of  an  alleged  misrepresen 
tation,  especially  in  the  latter  book,  of  the  relation! 
of  the  older  apostles  to  Paul,  and  of  the  Jewish  to  th( 
Gentile  branches  of  the  church  in  the  apostolic  age,  i; 
rwept  away  by  the  admission  of  independent  critics 

1  Acts  xvi.  10-19,  xx.  5-xxviii.  31. 

2  Irenaeus,  Adv.  Hser.,  iii.  1, 1;  Tertullian,  Adv.  Marc.,  iv.  2:  cf.  Ep 
to  Philemon,  ver.  24;  Col.  iv.  14;  2  Tim.  iv.  11. 


21o  TIIE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


that  the  Tubingen  premise  was  without  foundation  in 
fact,  and  that  the  representation  of  Luke,  in  his  record 
of  the  council  (Acts  xv.),  and  elsewhere,  is  in  substan¬ 
tial  accordance  with  the  statements  of  Paul  in  the 
Galatians  and  in  his  other  Epistles.1 

The  evidence,  the  most  important  points  of  which 
have  been  sketched  above,  proves  the  genuineness  of 
the  first  three  Gospels.  We  have,  however,  within 
these  Gospels  themselves,  proofs  of  their  early  date  of 
a  convincing  character.  The  most  important  of  these 
internal  evidences  is  the  form  of  the  eschatological  dis¬ 
course  of  Jesus.  In  Matthew  especially,  but  also  in  the 
other  synoptical  Gospels,  the  second  advent  of  Christ 
is  set  in  apparent  juxtaposition  with  the  destruction 
of  Jerusalem.2  There  is  not  room  here  to  review  the 
various  attempts  of  exegetes  to  remove  the  difficulties 
which  this  circumstance  involves.  The  reader,  in  inter¬ 
preting  these  passages,  may  adopt  whatever  hypothesis 
pleases  him  best.  I  will  only  remark,  that  Jesus  is 
proved  not  to  have  foretold  his  advent  to  judgment  as 
an  event  to  follow  immediately  upon  the  destruction 
of  Jerusalem,  by  the  parable  of  the  Marriage-feast,  in 
Matt,  xxii.,  where  the  mission  to  the  heathen  (ver.  10) 
is  pictured  as  subsequent  to  the  downfall  and  burning 
of  that  city.  The  same  thing  is  decisively  proved,  also, 
by  the  parable  of  the  Householder  (Matt.  xxi.  33-42), 
where,  after  the  destruction  of  the  husbandmen,  the 
vineyard  is  to  be  “let  out  to  other  husbandmen;” 
to  which  it  is  added,  “  The  kingdom  of  God  shall  be 
taken  from  you,  and  given  to  a  nation  bringing  forth 
the  fruits  thereof”  (ver.  43).  The  same  conclusion  is 

1  See  Mangold,  in  Bleek’s  Einl.  in  d.  N.  T.  (ed.  3),  p.  390,  n.;  and 
especially  Keim,  Aus  dem  Urcliristentlium,  pp.  64-89. 

2  Matt.  xxiv.  29,  34;  Mark  xiii.  19,  24,  30;  Luke  xxi.  32. 


T1IE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


217 


likewise  deducible  from  the  parable, s  of  the  Mustard- 
seed  and  the  Leaven,  not  to  speak  of  other  teaching 
of  like  purport.  At  the  same  time,  it  will  not  be 
questioned  by  the  soundest  interpreters,  that,  had  any 
considerable  interval  elapsed  between  the  capture  of 
Jerusalem  by  the  Romans  in  the  year  70,  and  the 
composition  of  the  synoptical  Gospels,  other  phraseol¬ 
ogy  would  have  been  used  by  the  evangelists,  or  at 
least  some  explanation  thrown  in  respecting  the  chrono¬ 
logical  relation  of  that  event  to  the  advent  to  judg¬ 
ment.  We  have  therefore,  in  the  passages  referred  to, 
satisfactory  evidence  that  the  first  three  Gospels  were 
in  existence,  if  not  before,  at  least  very  soon  after, 
A.D.  70.  And  the  same  reasoning  proves  that  they 
existed  in  their  present  form  and  compass.  The  es¬ 
chatological  discourse  in  Matthew,  for  example,  is 
homogeneous  in  style  with  the  rest  of  the  Gospel ;  and, 
in  any  revision  later  than  the  date  given  above,  these 
perplexing  statements  would  not  have  been  left  un¬ 
altered  or  unexplained. 

The  long  and  searching  inquiry  on  the  question  of 
the  origin  and  mutual  relation  of  the  first  three  Gospels 
has  not  been  without  substantial  results.1  The  great 
influence  of  an  oral  tradition  which  shaped  itself  at 
Jerusalem,  where  the  apostles  remained  for  years,  and 
whose  repetition  of  the  Lord’s  sayings  and  acts  would 
tend  to  acquire  a  fixed  form,  is  now  generally  acknowl¬ 
edged.  The  independence  of  Mark  in  relation  to  the 
other  evangelists  is  an  assured  fact.  The  priority  of 
Mark  in  respect  to  date  of  composition,  if  not  so  unani¬ 
mously  accepted,  is  favored  by  a  large  bedy  of  learned 
scholars.  Leading  English  critics  are  disposed  to  claim 

1  For  a  full  survey  of  the  history  of  this  inquiry,  see  Schaff’s  History 

Tie  Christian  Church,  vol.  i.  p.  590  seq. 


218  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  I  ELIEF. 


for  the  oral  tradition  a  larger  agency  in  accounting  for 
the  resemblances  of  the  synoptists  to  one  another  than 
German  critics  consider  it  possible  to  assume.  Profes¬ 
sor  Westcott  favors  the  hypothesis  that  Matthew  wrote 
his  Gospel  in  the  Aramaic  ;  that  the  Aramaic  oral  tradi¬ 
tion  which  he  took  up  had  its  contemporaneous  parallel 
in  a  Greek  oral  tradition ;  that,  about  the  time  of  the 
destruction  of  Jerusalem,  the  Aramaic  Gospel  was  not 
exactly  rendered  into  Greek,  but  its  contents  exchanged 
for  the  Greek  oral  counterpart ;  that  the  disciple  who 
thus  transferred  the  Aramaic  first  Gospel  of  Matthew 
into  Greek  added  here  and  there  certain  historical  mem¬ 
oranda.  In  this  way  he  would  account  for  the  resem¬ 
blances  of  the  matter  contained  in  the  synoptists.1 

Professor  Weiss,  in  common  with  critics  of  the  Ger¬ 
man  school,  of  whom  he  is  one  of  the  most  eminent, 
holds  that  the  peculiarities  of  the  synoptists  cannot  be 
explained  by  the  influence  of  oral  tradition  alone.  We 
must  assume  an  interdependence.  His  view  is,  that 
the  oidest  Gospel  was  an  Aramaic  writing  of  Matthew, 
composed  mainly,  but  not  exclusively,  of  discourses  of 
Christ,  arranged  in  groups  ;  that  this  was  rendered  into 
Greek ;  that,  immediately  after  the  capture  of  J eru- 
salem  by  Titus,  it  was  amplified  by  historical  matter, 
drawn  mainly  from  Mark,  —  the  second  Gospel  having 
been  previously  written,  as  the  ecclesiastical  tradition 
affirms,  by  the  same  Mark  who  had  attended  Barnabas 
and  Paul,  and  who  afterwards  was  a  companion  of 
Peter ;  that  the  third  Gospel  was  composed  by  Luke, 
the  companion  of  Paul,  who,  in  addition  to  other  sources 
of  information,  written  and  oral,  made  use  'f  the  oldest 
document,  the  wrioing  of  Matthew,  and  tne  narrative 


1  Westcott’s  Introduction  to  the  Gospels,  pp.  213,  214,  231,  n. 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


219 


of  Mark;  that  Luke’s  Gospel  was  composed  not  much 
later  than  the  “first  decennium  after  A.D.  70.”  1 

From  the  foregoing  statements  b  will  be  seen  how 
small,  comparatively,  is  the  divergence  of  the  different 
schools  of  judicious  critics,  so  far  as  their  conclusions 
have  a  bearing  on  the  historical  evidences  of  Christian* 
ily.  The  early  formation,  under  the  eyes  and  by  the 
agency  of  the  immediate  disciples  of  Jesus,  of  an  oral 
narrative  of  his  sayings  and  of  the  events  of  his  life ; 
its  wide  diffusion  ;  its  incorporation  into  the  second 
Gospel,  prior  to  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  by  an 
author  who  had  listened  to  Peter ;  the  authorship  of  the 
foundation,  at  least,  of  the  first  Gospel  by  the  Apostle 
Matthew;  the  completion  of  the  first  Gospel  in  its 
present  compass  at  about  the  date  of  the  fall  of  the 
city,  and  the  consequent  dispersion  of  the  Christians, 
who  fled  at  the  coming  of  the  Romans ;  the  composi¬ 
tion  of  Luke  by  a  Christian  writer  who  had  access  to 
immediate  testimony,  as  well  as  to  writings  in  which 
this  testimony  had  been  set  down  by  disciples  situated 
like  himself,  —  these  are  facts  which  erudite  and  candid 
scholars,  both  German  and  English,  whose  researches 
entitle  them  to  speak  with  confidence,  unite  in  affirming. 

A  few  words  may  be  said  upon  the  integrity  of  the 
Gospels.  The  guaranty  of  this  is  the  essential  agree¬ 
ment  of  the  existing  manuscripts,  which  would  not 
be  possible  had  the.  early  texts  been  tampered  with. 
Renan  speaks  of  the  little  authority  which  the  texts  of 
the  Gospels  had  for  about  a  “  hundred  years :  ”  in  his 
first  edition  he  wrote  “  a  hundred  and  fifty.”  u  They 
had  no  scruple,”  he  adds,  “  about  inserting  in  them 
paragraphs  combining  the  narratives  diversely,  or  com¬ 
pleting  some  by  others.  The  poor  man  who  has  but 

1  Weiss’s  Leben  Jesu,  B.  i.  p.  24-84. 


220  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRIS  HAN  BELIEF. 


one  book  wishes  it  to  contain  every  thing  that  comes 
home  to  his  heart.  They  lent  these  little  rolls  to  one 
another.  Every  one  transcribed  on  the  margin  of  his 
copy  the  words,  the  parables,  which  he  found  elsewhere, 
and  which  moved,  him.”  1  These  statements  are  ex¬ 
aggerated.  There  is  no  proof  that  the  Gospels  were 
treated  with  this  degree  of  license.  Had  they  been  so 
treated,  the  differences  consequent  upon  it  must  have 
perpetuated  themselves  in  the  copies  derived  from  the 
early  texts.  With  regard  to  Renan’s  solitary  example  of 
an  insertion  of  any  length,  —  John  viii.  1-11  (he  might 
have  added  one  more,  Mark  xvi.  9-20),  —  these  passages 
are  doubted,  or  rejected  from  the  text,  by  scholars, 
mainly  on  this  very  ground  of  a  lack  of  manuscript 
attestation.  No  doubt,  here  and  there  a  marginal  anno¬ 
tation,  made  for  liturgical  purposes,  or  from  some  other 
innocent  motive,  has  crept  into  the  text.  In  the  second 
century  the  diversities  in  the  copies  of  the  canonical 
Gospels  were  considerable.2  It  is  the  business  of  text¬ 
ual  criticism  to  ascertain  what  readings  are  to  be  pre¬ 
ferred.  The  statement  that  the  early  Christians  felt 
no  interest  whatever  in  keeping  the  text  of  the  Gospels 
intact  is  a  pure  fiction.3 


1  Vie  de  Jesus,  13me  e'd.  p.  lv. 

2  See  Westcott’s  History  of  the  Canon  of  the  New  Testament, 
p.  149  seq. 

3  Other  statements,  in  the  same  connection,  have  even  less  founda¬ 
tion.  “  They  attached  little  importance,”  says  Renan,  “to  these  writ¬ 
ings,” —  Gospels  ;  “and  the  collectors  (conservateurs),  such  as  Papias, 
in  the  first  half  of  the  second  century,  still  preferred  to  them  the  oral 
tradition.”  On  the  contrary,  the  work  of  Papias  was  itself  a  commen¬ 
tary  on  the  Gospels,  or  on  portions  of  them.  In  his  remark  about  his 
esteem  of  oral  tradition,  he  is  not  comparing  the  Gospels  with  other 
sources  of  information,  hut  refers  to  anecdotes  respecting  them  and 
their  authors,  which  he  interwove  in  his  comments,  and  which  he  pre¬ 
ferred  to  derive  from  ora’  sources.  See  Eusebius,  H.  E.,  iii.  39.  Renan’s 
reference  to  Irenjeus  (Ad  '.  User.,  iii.  cc.  2,  3)  proves  nothing  to  his  pur* 


THE  GOSPELS  A  FAITHFUL  RECORD. 


221 


In  these  remarks  we  have  turned  away  for  a  time 
from  the  special  consideration  of  the  fourth  Gospel. 
The  more  particular  discussion  of  its  origin  must  be 
reserved  for  another  chapter. 

pose.  It  contains  no  bint  of  a  preference  of  tradition  to  the  Gospels. 
Renan  further  says,  “  Besides  the  Gospels  that  have  reached  us,  there 
were  others  ”  —  in  his  first  edition  he  wrote  “  a  multitude  of  others  ”  — 
“  pretending  equally  to  represent  the  tradition  of  eye-witnesses.”  How 
little  warrant  there  is  for  this  statement  respecting  apocryphal  Gospels, 
aid  how  false  is  the  impression  which  it  conveys,  have  been  shown  in 
preceding  pages  of  this  chapter.  The  “  many  ”  writers  to  whom  Luke 
refers  in  his  prologue  were  soon  superseded,  and  passed  away.  There 
were  left  no  competitors  with  the  Gospels  of  the  canon,  and  none  arose. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE  APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL 

Euseitus  places  tlie  Gospel  of  John  in  the  catalogue 
of  the  “  Homologoumena,”  —  books  received  without 
dispute  by  all  Christian  people.1  It  is  fully  recognized, 
he  tells  us,  “  in  all  the  churches  under  heaven.”  Its 
authorship  had  never  been  questioned,  except  in  the 
solitary  instance  of  an  obscure  sect  which  Epiphanius 
terms  “  Alogi ;  ”  2  for  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that 
these  persons,  who  lived  at  Thyatira  in  Lydia,  are  the 
same  to  whom  Irenaeus  refers ; 3  who  are  noticed,  also, 
later  by  Philastrius ; 4  and  against  whom,  not  improba¬ 
bly,  Hippolytus  wrote.  They  were  carried,  in  their 
hostility  to  Montanism,  with  its  doctrine  of  prophetical 
gifts  and  of  the  Paraclete,  into  an  antipathy  to  both  the 
Apocalypse  and  the  Gospel ;  and  their  tendencies  of 
thought  sooner  or  later  awakened  in  them  a  repugnance 
to  the  conception  of  the  Logos,  or  of  the  pre-existence 
of  Christ  as  a  person.  Critical  objections,  on  their  part, 
to  the  Gospel,  seem  to  have  been  an  afterthought,  due 
tc  an  antagonism  which  had  its  origin  in  a  purely  sub¬ 
jective  and  dogmatic  prejudice.  Since  they  discarded 
the  Apocalypse,  as  well  as  the  Gospel,  and  absurdly  as¬ 
cribed  them  both  to  Cerinthus,  a  contemporary  of  John, 
their  protest,  as  Zeller  allows,5  affords  no  indication  that 

1  H.  E.,  iii.  24,  25.  2  Haer.,  li.  3,  liv.  1. 

8  Adv.  naer.,  iii.  11,  9.  4  Haer.,  60. 

6  Tbeol.  Jabrbb.,  1845,  p.  645  seq. 


222 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  223 


any  other  tradition  as  to  the  authorship  of  the  Gospel 
existed,  save  that  existing  in  the  church.  No  impor¬ 
tance,  then,  attaches  to  the  dissent  of  this  insignificant 
party,  on  which  Irenasus  thinks  it  necessary  to  bestow 
but  a  few  lines.  The  ancient  church  is  united  in  its 
testimony  to  the  genuineness  of  the  fourth  Gospel,  and 
whoever  adopts  the  contrary  opinion  is  bound  to  ac¬ 
count  for  this  consentaneous  judgment  of  antiquity* 
The  modern  attack  on  the  Johannine  authorship,  as 
far  as  it  merits  serious  attention,  may  be  said  to  have 
begun  with  the  first  essay  in  which  Baur  took  up  the 
subject.  It  was  published  in  1844. 1  The  subsequent 
assailants  have  followed  more  or  less  closely  in  his  foot¬ 
steps,  but  they  have  frequently  forgotten  or  renounced 
the  postulates  which  gave  coherence  and  a  degree  of 
plausibility  to  his  theory.  At  the  time  when  he  wrote, 
Hegelism  was  predominant  in  Germany.  On  the  basis 
of  that  philosophy  the  historical  speculations  of  Baur 
were  founded.  In  history,  as  in  the  development  of 
mind,  and  in  the  universe  at  large,  thesis  begets  anti¬ 
thesis  ;  and  both,  by  an  inward  momentum,  are  resolved 
into  a  higher  unity.  Christianity  was  treated  as  an 
example  of  evolution,  passing  through  successive  stages, 
according  to  the  method  of  the  Hegelian  logic.  The 
church,  it  was  affirmed,  was  at  the  outset  Ebionitic. 


1  The  literature  of  this  controversy  (down  to  18G9)  is  given  by  Pro¬ 
fessor  E.  Abbot  in  the  American  edition  of  Smith’s  Dictionary  <  f  the 
Bible,  art.  John,  Gospel  of.  A  complete  bibliography  (down  to  1875), 
embracing  about  five  hundred  publications,  by  Mr.  C.  R.  Gregory,  is 
appended  to  the  English  translation  of  Luthardt’s  work,  St.  John  the 
Author  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  (Edinburgh,  1875).  Among  the  later  dis¬ 
cussions  of  most  value  are  Bishop  Lightfoot’s  articles  (in  the  Contempo¬ 
rary  Review,  1875-77)  in  review  of  Supernatural  Religion,  Beyschlag’s 
Zur  Johanneischen  Frage  (1876),  Godet’s  Introduction  hist,  et  critique 
to  his  Comm,  sur  L’^vang.  de  S.  Jean  (1876),  and  Professor  E.  Abbot’s 
The  Authorship  of  the  Fourth  Gospel:  the  External  Evidences  (1880). 


224  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


Christ  was  at  first  held  to  be  only  a  human  prophet 
filled  with  the  Spirit.  Then  arose  the  opposite  pole 
of  Paulinism,  leading  to  the  conflict  of  the  two  types  of 
belief,  and  of  the  followers  of  Peter  and  Paul  respec¬ 
tively.  The  reconciliation  ensued,  mediated,  first,  in 
such  writings  as  the  Epistles  to  the  Colossians  and  the 
Philippians,  which  it  was  denied  that  Paul  wrote,  and 
then  in  the  Logos  theology  as  presented  in  the  Gospel 
and  first  Epistle,  falsely  attributed  to  John.  In  point 
of  fact,  this  apostle  wrote  only  the  Apocalypse :  he  was 
a  Judaizer,  like  the  other  primitive  apostles.  The  fourth 
Gospel  followed  the  great  Gnostic  systems,  and  was 
composed  somewhere  between  A.D.  160  and  A.D.  170. 
In  common  with  the  Book  of  Acts  and  many  other  of 
the  New-Testament  writings,  it  was  a  Tendenz-schrift , 
that  is,  the  product  of  theological  bias  or  theory ;  and 
was  composed  with  the  intent  to  pacify  contending 
parties.  It  should  be  observed  that  Baur’s  historical 
speculation  was  the  counterpart  of  his  metaphysics.  It 
was  a  naturalistic  view,  growing  out  of  an  ideal  panthe¬ 
ism.  The  chronological  position  assigned  to  the  fourth 
Gospel  followed  from  the  assumption  that  Christianity 
was  a  development  on  the  plane  of  nature.  It  is  danger¬ 
ous  to  pull  away  any  of  the  stones  in  so  compact  a 
structure.  Yet  just  this,  many  of  the  later  defenders 
of  the  proposition  of  Baur  have  rashly  ventured  to  do. 
The  metaphysical  system  at  the  foundation  has  been 
generally  given  up.  The  date  assigned  to  the  Gospel 
has  been  almost  universally  abandoned.  The  force  of 
the  historical  proofs  has  obliged  the  critics  to  push  it 
back  towards  the  beginning  of  the  century.  They 
have  been  unable,  however,  to  find  a  resting-place 
where  the  composition  of  the  book  could  be  securely 
placed.  Keim  first  put  it  between  A.D.  100  and  A.D. 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  225 


117,  but  finally  fixed  it  at  A.D.  130.  Wherever  the 
date  is  set,  obstacles  and  difficulties  spring  up  to  neces¬ 
sitate  a  change.  Meantime  it  is  frequently  overlooked, 
that  this  departure  from  Baur  on  the  chronological  ques* 
tion  imperils  the  whole  scheme  of  doctrinal  development, 
of  which  his  view  on  this  point  formed  an  essential 
element,  and  thus  shakes  to  the  foundation  the  critical 
fabric  so  laborously  built  up  by  the  Tubingen  master. 

Moreover,  the  historical  postulates  of  Baur  have  been 
proved  to  be  untenable.  The  “  tendency  ”  theory  is 
generally  admitted  by  independent  critics  to  have  been 
at  least  a  great  exaggeration.  Such  writers  as  Man¬ 
gold  1  and  Keim,2  who  are  quite  free  from  prejudice  in 
a  conservative  direction,  maintain  that  the  representa¬ 
tion  in  the  Acts,  of  the  relation  of  the  older  apostles  to 
Paul,  is  substantially  consonant  with  Paul’s  own  tes¬ 
timony  in  the  Galatians  and  elsewhere,  and  with  what 
is  inherently  probable.  Neither  John  nor  Peter  was  a 
Judaizer.  Neither  demanded  that  the  Gentile  converts 
should  be  circumcised.  There  was  no  such  chasm  to  be 
bridged  over  as  Baur  assumed  to  exist.  There  was  no 
such  radical  change  required  to  convert  John  into  a 
liberal-minded  apostle  as  Baur  affirmed  to  be  necessary. 
This  has  become  evident,  whether  the  apostle  was  the 
author  of  the  Apocalypse,  or  not.  As  to  the  New-Testa- 
ment  writings,  Plilgenfeld,3  probably  the  ablest  living 
representative  of  the  Tubingen  school,  now  holds  that 
Paul  wrote  First  Thessalonians  and  Philippians,  together 
with  Philemon,  in  addition  to  the  four  great  Epistles, — 
First  and  Second  Corinthians,  Galatians,  and  Romans,  — 
which  Baur  had  allowed  to  him.  The  progress  is  in  the 

1  Bleek’s  Einl.  in  d.  N.  T.  (ed.  Mangold),  p.  392. 

2  Aus  dem  Urchristenthum,  pp.  64-89. 

3  Einl.  in  d.  N.  T.,  pp.  239,  331,  333. 


226  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


right  direction,  towards  the  recognit’on  of  Colossians  and 
Ephesians,  —  which  Renss  has  ably  defended,1  —  and  of 
other  Epistles,  which,  more  on  subjective  than  historical 
grounds,  have  been  called  in  question.  But,  even  as 
the  case  now  stands  among  the  critics,  the  fundamental 
assumption  of  the  Tiibingen  school,  that  the  primitive 
type  of  Christianity  was  Ebionitic,  has  no  tenable  foot¬ 
ing.  That  assumption  is  contradicted,  as  will  appear, 
by  the  synoptical  Gospels.  It  is  contradicted  by  the 
Epistles  of  Paul,  even  by  those  which  on  all  hands  are 
conceded  to  be  genuine.  It  is  unreasonable  to  assume 
that  he  introduced  most  important  elements  of  doctrine 
respecting  the  person  of  Christ,  which  the  other  apos¬ 
tles  must  have  known  that  Paul  taught,  but  against 
which  it  is  not  pretended  that  they  uttered  a  lisp  of 
dissent.  In  this  altered  state  of  opinion,  when  the  prem¬ 
ises  of  Baur  have  been  so  far  abandoned,  and  when 
his  hypothesis  respecting  the  date  of  the  Gospel  has 
been  so  variously  and  essentially  modified,  it  remains  to 
be  seen  whether  his  general  theory  as  to  its  authorship 
can  longer  be  maintained. 

The  farther  back  it  is  found  necessary  to  shift  the 
date  of  the  Gospel,  the  more  menacing  is  the  situation 
for  the  theory  of  non-apostolic  authorship.  Keim  is  not 
alone  in  the  retreat  from  the  old  ground  taken  by  Baur 
and  Volckmar.  Hilgenfeld  is  not  disposed  to  deny  that 
the  fourth  Gospel  was  used  by  Justin,  and  therefore 
places  its  origin  between  A.D.  130  and  A.D.  140.  Renan, 
after  not  a  little  vacillation,  now  holds  that  it  saw  the 
light  in  A.D.  125  or  A.D.  130.  Schenkel  fixes  on  a  date 
ten  years  earlier,  —  A.D.  115-120  ;  which  is  somewhat 
later  than  the  limits  first  assigned  by  Keim.  When  it 
is  considered  that  the  Apostle  John,  according  to  the 

1  Ge3ch.  d.  heiligen  Schriften  d.  N.  T.,  i.  107  seq. 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  227 


universal  and  well-grounded  tradition  of  the  ancient 
church,  died  at  a  very  advanced  age,  at  Ephesus,  Keim’s 
opinion,  even  his  final  opinion,  as  to  the  date  when  the 
Gospel  was  in  use,  would  appear  to  exclude  absolutely 
the  assumption  that  it  was  a  spurious  work.  How  could 
a  book  of  this  kind  be  palmed  off  on  the  churches,  in¬ 
cluding  the  church  at  Ephesus,  with  no  longer  interval 
between  its  appearance  and  the  apostle’s  death?  To 
meet  the  exigency,  Keim  boldly  affirmed  that  the  Apos¬ 
tle  John  never  lived  at  Ephesus,  and  that  the  belief  of 
the  ancient  church,  that  he  resided  there  and  died  there, 
was  all  a  mistake !  This  was  to  strike  at  the  corner¬ 
stone  of  the  Tiibingen  historical  theory,  which  rested 
on  the  Johannine  authorship  of  the  Apocalypse.  Keim’s 
novel  and  adventurous  opinion  has  been  effectually  con¬ 
futed  by  Hilgenfeld 1  and  Krenkel.2  The  supposition 
that  Irenceus  confounded  John  the  Apostle  with  another 
John  —  John  the  Presbyter — is  next  to  impossible.  He 
had  a  perfectly  distinct  recollection  of  Polycarp,  and  of 
his  reminiscences  of  the  apostle.  His  connection  with 
Irenceus  was  not  in  his  childhood,  but  in  the  early  part 
of  his  manhood ;  that  is,  of  that  era  included  between 
the  ages  of  seventeen  or  eighteen  and  thirty-five  or 
forty.3  Moreover,  it  was  not  one  or  two  interviews 
with  Polycarp,  but  the  continued  relation  and  inter¬ 
course  of  a  pupil,  which  Irenseus  describes.4  In  a  letter 
to  Victor,  bishop  of  Rome,  Iremeus  referred  to  the  visit 
of  Polycarp  to  that  city  (A.D.  155),  and  to  the  appeal 
which  that  venerable  bishop  made  to  the  instruction 

1  Einl.  in  d.  N.  T.,  pp.  394  seq. 

2  Der  Apostel  Johannes,  pp.  133  seq.  On  this  topic,  see  also  Steitz, 
Stud.  u.  Kritik.  (1868),  pp.  467  seq. 

8  See  Zahn’s  art.,  Irenceus,  in  Herzog  u.  Plitt’s  Real-Encycl.,  vii.  13S 
seq.;  Canon  Venables,  in  Smith  and  Wace’s  Diet,  of  Biography,  iii.  254. 

4  See  Zahn’s  art.  (as  above),  p.  136. 


228  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRiSTIAN  BELIEF. 


which  he  had  received  from  John  and  other  apostles.1 
If  there  was  an  error  in  this  statement  of  Irenseus,  it 
would  have  been  evident  at  Rome,  where  the  facts  con¬ 
cerning  Polycarp’s  visit  were  remembered.  It  is  not 
alone  from  Polycarp  directly  that  Irenseus  was  informed 
of  his  recollections  of  John.  The  story  of  the  apostle’s 
meeting  the  heretic  Cerinthus  in  the  bath,  he  had 
received  from  individuals  to  whom  Polycarp  had  related 
it.2  Not  Poly  carp  alone,  but  other  elders  also  who  had 
known  John,  are  referred  to  by  Irenseus.  Poly  carp  war 
not  the  sole  link  connecting  him  with  John.3  He  had, 
moreover,  before  him  the  work  of  Papias,  in  which  the 
apostle  is  plainly  distinguished  from  the  presbyter  of 
the  same  name.  Keim’s  hypothesis  attributes  to  Irenseus 
an  incredible  misunderstanding.  If  he  was  in  error 
in  saying  that  Papias  had  been  taught  by  the  apostle, 
of  which  we  cannot  be  certain,  this  circumstance  will 
not  for  a  moment  warrant  such  an  inference  as  Keim 
would  deduce  from  it.  As  Renan  says,  we  cannot 
suppose  a  falsehood  on  the  part  of  Irenseus ;  but  this, 
as  the  same  writer  implies,  we  should  have  to  suppose, 
if  we  held  that  John  did  not  live  in  Asia.4  Other  wit¬ 
nesses  besides  Irenseus  testify  to  the  sojourn  of  the 
apostle  there,  —  Apollonius,  an  Asiatic  bishop  and  an 
earlier  writer ; 5  Polycrates,  himself  a  bishop  of  Ephesus, 
who  was  born  as  early  as  A.D.  125  ;6  Clement  of  Alex¬ 
andria,  who  relates  the  incident  —  whether  it  be  true  or 
not  is  immaterial  in  the  present  argument  —  of  John’s 
conversion  of  the  apostate  youth  who  had  become  a 
robber.7  Other  early  legends  relating  to  the  apostle 
imply  at  least  the  knowledge  that  he  had  lived  at  Ephe* 

1  Irenseus  (ed.  Stieren),  i.,  fragm.  iii.  p.  826. 

2  Adv.  Haer.,  iii.  3,  4.  3  See  this  work,  p.  185  seq 

4  Les  l^vangiles,  p.  425,  n.  2.  6  Eusebius,  H.  E.,  v.  18 

«  Ibid.,  v.  24.  7  Ibid.,  iii.  23. 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  223 


sus.  Justin  Martyr  (A.D.  140-160),  and  all  others  who 
attribute  the  Apocalypse  to  the  Apostle  John,  virtually 
t  estify  to  the  same  fact.  Keim  holds  that  the  author  of 
the  Gospel,  whoever  he  was,  proceeded  on  the  supposi* 
lion  that  John  had  lived  in  Asia  Minor  ;  so  that  at  least 
as  early  as  A.D.  130  the  belief  must  have  prevailed  that 
the  apostle  had  dwelt  there.  The  traces  of  the  influ¬ 
ence  of  John  in  Asia  were  distinct  and  permanent. 
There  was  in  reality,  as  Liglitfoot  has  shown,  a  later 
“school  of  John,” — a  class  of  writers  coming  after 
Polycarp  and  Papias,  and  including  Melito  of  Sardis, 
Claudius  Apollinaris,  and  Polycrates,  —  who  bear*  in¬ 
contestable  marks  of  the  peculiar  influence  of  John’s 
teaching.1  Keim’s  conjecture  falls  to  the  ground  before 
these  strong  and  multiplied  historical  proofs. 

Irenaeus  states  that  the  Apostle  John  was  alive  at  the 
accession  of  Trajan,  A.D.  98.2  With  this  positive  asser¬ 
tion  of  one  who  was  in  a  position  to  ascertain  the  fact 
agree  the  traditions  relative  to  John  as  an  old  man,  to 
which  reference  has  been  made  in  later  ecclesiastical 
writers.  Clement’s  account  of  the  rescue  of  the  outlaw 
chief,  and  Jerome’s  interesting  narrative  of  the  aged 
apostle’s  method  of  addressing  his  flock,3  indicate  a  gen¬ 
eral  belief  that  his  life  was  protracted  to  extreme  old 
age.  We  are  authorized,  by  evidence  which  cannot  be 
successfully  impugned,  in  picturing  to  ourselves  the 
Apostle  John,  near  the  close  of  the  first  century,  at 
Ephesus,  a  flourishing  centre  of  Christianity,  surrounded 
by  disciples  whom  he  had  trained,  and  who,  in  common 
with  the  churches  in  all  that  district,  looked  up  to  him 
with  affectionate  reverence.  And  now,  if  he  did  not 
write  the  Gospel  which  bears  his  name,  how  did  those 

1  Cont.  Review,  February,  187G,  p.  471  seq. 

2  Adv.  Haer.,  ii.  22,  5,  iil  3,  4.  3  Hieron.,  In  Gal.,  vi. 


230  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


disciples  and  churches  come  to  believe  that  he  did? 
How  did  all  the  churches  in  the  second  century  acquire 
the  same  conviction?  Many  of  those  disciples  of  John 
were  living  at  the  time  when  the  Gospel  is  admitted  to 
have  been  in  circulation.  But  nothing  would  be  gained 
for  the  sceptical  cause  if  the  assumed  date  of  its  first 
appearance  could  be  brought  down  to  a  later  day. 
Where  had  this  remarkable  document  lain  during  the 
long  interval?  What  warrant  was  there  for  accepting 
a  narrative  so  unique,  so  different  from  the  first  three 
Gospels  and  from  the  established  tradition?  Can  we 
believe  that  there  was  nobody  to  ask  these  questions  ? 
Is  it  credible  that  a  new  history  of  Jesus  would  have 
made  its  way,  under  these  circumstances,  to  universal 
acceptance  without  the  least  scrutiny?  If  spurious, 
very  little  inquiry  would  have  sufficed  to  expose  its 
false  pretensions.  The  striking  peculiarities  of  the 
Gospel,  not  to  speak  of  the  fact,  which  demanded 
explanation,  of  its  late  appearance,  would  have  com¬ 
pelled  doubt  and  dispute.  The  microscopic  examina¬ 
tion  of  particular  passages  in  the  Fathers,  and  the 
discussion  of  special  points  of  evidence  about  which  a 
contest  may  be  raised,  has  availed  of  late  to  cover  as 
in  a  mist  the  more  comprehensive  features  of  proof. 
The  great  strength  of  the  external  argument  for  the 
genuineness  of  the  Gospel  has  seldom  been  justly  appre¬ 
ciated  by  friend  or  foe. 

When  we  turn  from  these  general  considerations,  to 
consider  the  use  of  the  Gospel  by  particular  writers  in 
the  second  century,  one  is  struck  at  seeing  how  much 
of  the  ground  which  Baur  attempted  to  seize  has  been 
surrendered  by  the  ablest  critics  of  the  negative  school. 
Keim  holds  that  the  fourth  Gospel  was  among  the 
Gospels  knewn  to  Marcion,  that  Justin  Martyr  derives 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  231 

quotations  from  it,  that  it  antedated  the  Epistles  of 
Barnabas  and  the  Ignatian  Epistles,  and  that  it  was 
used  as  early  in  the  extant  literature  of  the  church  as 
were  the  first  three  Gospels.1  Mangold  goes  almost  as 
far.  He  admits  that  there  is  no  defect  in  the  external 
evidence.2  What  more  satisfactory  attestation  is  re¬ 
quired  ?  In  the  succinct  review  of  the  evidence  which 
it  is  proposed  to  give  here,  it  will  be  taken  for  granted 
that  the  Gospel  and  first  Epistle  are  from  the  same 
pen.  Baur  and  Hilgenfeld  denied  this;  but  their  dif¬ 
ference  from  one  another  on  the  question,  which  was 
the  primitive  work  and  which  the  secondary,  is  an  argu¬ 
ment  for  the  identity  of  authorship,  —  an  opinion  which 
is  supported  as  well  by  the  strongest  internal  evidence 
as  by  the  uniform  tradition. 

Eusebius,  in  the  first  quarter  of  the  fourth  century, 
with  much  of  the  earliest  Christian  literature  in  his 
hands  which  is  now  lost,  knew  of  no  dispute  respecting 
the  authorship  of  this  Gospel.  Origen,  one  of  the  most 
erudite  of  scholars,  whose  birth  from  Christian  parents 
fell  within  the  limits  of  the  second  century  (A.D.  185), 
counts  it  among  “  the  only  undisputed  Gospels  in  the 
church  of  God  under  the  whole  heavens.”  3  In  conso¬ 
nance  with  Irenseus  his  contemporary,  Clement  of  Alex¬ 
andria  reports  what  he  had  heard  from  the  oldest  pres¬ 
byters.  John,  he  says,  wrote  a  “spiritual  Gospel,” 
being  encouraged  to  this  task  by  his  friends,  and  urged 
by  the  Spirit.4  The  Muratorian  canon  gives  with  more 
detail  a  tradition  of  like  purport.  The  apostle  had 
been  exhorted  to  write,  it  tells  us,  by  his  fellow-disci¬ 
ples  and  bishops.  Justin  Martyr  has  quotations  which 
are  undoubtedly  traceable  to  this  Gospel ;  and  from 

1  Gesch.  Jesu,  i.  137.  2  Bleek’s  Einl.  in  d.  N.  T.  (ed.  3),  p.  281,  n 

8  Eusebius,  H.  E.,  vi.  25.  4  Ibid.,  vi.  14. 


*232  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 


no  other  source  could  he  have  derived  his  doctrine 
of  the  person  of  Christ.1  It  formed  one  of  the  four  at 
the  basis  of  the  Diatesseron  of  Tatian,2  Justin’s  pupil. 
Theophilus,  a  contemporary  of  Tatian,  who  became 
Dishop  of  Antioch  A.D.  169,  describes  the  fourth  Gos¬ 
pel  as  one  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  John  as  guided 
by  the  Holy  Spirit.3  He  wrote  a  commentary  on  the 
Gospels,  and  somehow  combined  the  four  in  a  single 
work.4  Athenagoras,  a  contemporary  of  Theophilus, 
speaks  of  Christ  in  terms  which  are  obviously  founded 
on  passages  in  this  Gospel.5  Melito,  bishop  of  Sardis, 
spoke  of  the  ministry  of  J esus  as  lasting  for  three  years, 
- — a  fact,  in  all  probability,  derived  from  the  fourth 
Gospel.6  Another  contemporary,  Apollinaris,  bishop  of 
Hierapolis,  indirectly  but  manifestly  implies  its  exist¬ 
ence  and  authority.7  It  may  here  be  observed,  that  Cel- 
sus,  the  most  noted  of  the  opponents  of  Christianity  in 
the  second  century,  resorted  to  the  fourth  Gospel,  as 
well  as  to  the  first  three,  to  get  materials  for  his  attack.8 
It  was  probably  used  by  Hernias;9  and  traces,  though 
less  distinct,  of  its  use,  are  not  wanting  in  the  Epistle 
ascribed  to  Barnabas.10  Polycarp,  in  addition  to  the  in¬ 
ference  as  to  his  use  of  the  Gospel  which  may  be  drawn 
with  the  highest  degree  of  probability  from  the  rela¬ 
tions  of  Irenaeus  to  him,  introduces  into  his  own  brief 
Epistle  to  the  Philippians  a  passage  which  is  found  in 

1  See  this  work,  p.  193  seq. 

2  Ibid.,  p.  204;  Bishop  Liglitfoot’s  art.,  Cont.  Review,  May,  1877. 

8  Ad  Autolycum,  ii.  22.  4  Hieron.,  De  viris  illustr.,  25;  Epp.,  151. 

6  Suppl.  pro  Christianis,  c.  10. 

6  See  Otto’s  Corpus  Apo..,  t.  ix.  p.  41G. 

7  Chron.  Pasch.,  pp.  13,  14.  8  See  this  work,  p.  209. 

9  Simil.,  ix.  12,  cf.  John  x.  7,  9,  xiv.  6  ;  Hand.,  xii.  3,  cf.  1  John  v.  3, 

10  Keim  is  confident  that  proofs  of  the  use  of  the  fourth  Gospel  are 
contained  in  the  Ep.  of  Barnabas.  But  see  Luthardt,  p.  76  ;  Sanda^ . 
Gospels  in  the  Second  Century,  pp.  270-273;  Cunningham,  Dissert,  on 
the  Ep.  of  Barnabas,  etc.,  p.  CO. 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  23 3 


no  other  book  but  the  first  Epistle  of  John.1  As  to 
Papias,  there  is  not  the  least  evidence  to  disprove  his 
acquaintance  with  the  fourth  Gospel ;  since  the  silence 
of  Eusebius  on  this  topic  affords  not  the  slightest  pre¬ 
sumption  that  Papias  made  no  mention  of  it.2  But 
Eusebius  does  expressly  state  that  Papias  used  the 
first  Epistle  of  John,3  this  being  one  of  the  catholic 
Epistles  the  use  of  which  by  the  early  writers  was  a 
matter  which  it  belonged  to  the  plan  of  Eusebius  to  re¬ 
cord.  Irenseus  cites  from  “  elders,”  the  contemporaries 
of  Papias,  an  interpretation  of  the  words  of  Christ  in 
John  xiv.  2, 4  and  attributes  to  them  an  idea  relative 
to  the  length  of  the  Saviour’s  ministry,  which  sprang 
up  from  a  misunderstanding  of  John  viii.  57.5  These 
testimonies  sweep  over  the  century.  They  carry  us 
back  to  the  lifetime  of  the  contemporaries  and  pupils 
of  John.  Finally,  appended  to  the  Gospel  itself  is  an 
indorsement  emanating  from  those  into  whose  hands 
it  was  first  given  (John  xxi.  24).  It  is  an  independent 
attestation,  distinct  from  that  given  by  the  author  him¬ 
self,  and  not  to  be  distrusted  without  imputing  to  him 
a  reduplicated,  intricate  fraud. 

Let  us  glance  now  at  the  parties  without  the  pale  of 
the  church.  Tertullian  distinctly  implies  that  Marcion 
(A.D.  140)  was  acquainted  with  John’s  Gospel,  but 
cast  it  aside  because  he  would  acknowledge  no  other 
of  the  apostles  than  Paul.6  We  have  little  information 
respecting  the  canon  of  the  Montanists,  but  there  is  no 
hint  that  they  rejected  the  fourth  Gospel.  The  Basi- 
lidians  and  the  Valentinians,  Gnostic  sects  which  arose 
in  the  second  quarter  of  the  second  century,  made  use 

1  Ad  Phil.,  7. 

2  See  Bishop  Lightfoot’s  art.,  Cont.  Review,  January,  1875. 

»  H.  E.,  iii.  39.  4  Adv.  Hair.,  v.  3G,  2.  5  ibid.,  ii.  22,  5 

•  Adv.  Marcion,  iv.  3,  cf.  c.  2  ;  De  Carne  Christi,  c.  3. 


234  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


of  it ;  the  Valentinians,  Irenseus  tells  us,  abundant  use 
of  it,  seeking  to  bolster  up  their  strange  opinions  by 
a  perverse  interpetation  of  its  contents.1  Heracleon, 
a  follower  of  Valentinus,  wrote  a  commentary  upon  it, 
from  which  Origen  quotes  largely.2  Tertullian  expli¬ 
citly  says  that  Valentinus  himself  used  all  of  the  four 
Gospels,3  and  Irenaeus  nowhere  implies  the  contrary. 
If  there  is  room  for  a  doubt  whether  Hippolytus  derived 
those  comments  upon  certain  places  in  the  Gospel 
which  he  quotes,  from  Valentinus  himself,  or  from  a 
disciple,  there  is  little  occasion  for  a  similar  doubt  in 
regard  to  his  references  to  Basilides.4  Basilides  flour¬ 
ished  under  Hadrian  (A.D.  117-138).  Valentinus 
came  to  Rome  about  A.D.  140.  In  the  middle  of  the 
second  century  the  debate  between  the  church  and 
the  Gnostic  heresiarchs  was  raging.  Justin  speaks 
in  the  severest  terms  of  reprobation  of  Marcion  and  his 
followers,  of  the  Valentinians,  Basilidians,  and  the  sect 
of  Saturlinus.5  Their  doctrines  he  calls  blasphemous. 
Now,  all  of  these  parties  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
defenders  of  orthodoxy  on  the  other,  acknowledge  in 
common  the  fourth  Gospel.  The  Gnostics  did  not  ques¬ 
tion  its  apostolic  authorship,  but  resorted  to  artificial 
interpretation  of  its  contents ;  and  the  church  teachers 
had  no  heavier  task  than  to  expose  the  fantastic  char¬ 
acter  of  their  exegesis.  The  beginnings  of  the  great 
controversy  are  as  early  as  the  Apocalypse,  the  Pasto¬ 
ral  Epistles,  and  the  Epistle  to  the  Colossians.  How 

1  Adv.  Hser.,  iii.  11,  7. 

a  For  Origen’s  references,  see  Grabe’s  Spicilegium,  vol.  ii.,  or  Stie* 
ren’s  ed.  of  Irasnus,  i.  938-971. 

8  De  Prsescript.,  c.  38.  For  the  sense  of  “  videtur  ”  in  the  passage, 
see  this  work,  p.  208. 

4  Hippolytus,  Ref.  omn.  Haer.,  vii.  22,  27.  See  Professor  E.  Abbot, 
The  Authorship  of  the  Fourth  Gospel,  p.  86. 

6  Dial.,  c.  35,  cf.  Apol.,  i.  26. 


AFOSTQLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  235 

and  when  could  this  Gospel,  if  it  be  spurious,  have  been 
brought  in,  have  secured  universal  acceptance  among 
the  belligerent  parties,  and  been  adopted  as  an  author¬ 
ity  by  both?  Who  could  have  had  the  intellectual 
skill  requisite  to  frame  a  book  of  such  a  character  as 
to  obtain  this  honor  and  deference  from  the  champions 
of  antagonistic  types  of  doctrine  ?  If  the  work  was 
known  to  emanate  from  an  apostle,  no  explanation  is 
required;  since  the  Gnostics,  Marcion  excepted,  did  not 
profess  to  reject  the  authority  of  the  apostles.  If  it 
was  a  forged  composition,  first  appearing  decades  of 
years  after  the  death  of  John,  its  reception  by  orthodox 
and  heretic  alike  must  remain  an  unsolved  enigma. 

Leaving  the  external  proofs,  we  turn  to  the  internal 
evidence.  Here  we  meet  at  once  the  standing  objection, 
that  the  catholic  tone  of  the  author,  and,  in  particular, 
his  method  of  speaking  of  “  the  Jews  ”  as  an  alien  body, 
are  inconsistent  with  the  character  and  position  of 
John.  The  reader  must  bear  in  mind,  however,  that 
John  was  never  the  Judaizer  whom  the  Tubingen  critics 
have  painted  him,  but  was  the  apostle  who  gave  the 
right  hand  of  fellowship  to  the  apostle  to  the  Gentiles 
(Gal.  ii.  9).  He  is  not  writing  at  the  early  day  when 
the  Jewish  Christians  kept  up  the  legal  observances 
in  the  temple,  and  hoped  for  a  vast  influx  of  converts 
from  their  countrymen.  The  temple  lay  in  ruins.  The 
full  meaning  of  the  Master,  when  he  said,  “In  this 
plane  is  one  greater  than  the  temple”  (Matt.  xii.  6), 
had  become  apparent  to  his  disciples  from  the  lessons 
of  Providence  and  the  teaching  of  the  Spirit.  The 
rejection  of  Jesus  the  Messiah  by  the  bulk  of  the  Jews, 
which  long  before  filled  the  Apostle  Paul  with  grief, 
was  now  a  fact  beyond  all  question.  The  Jewish  an¬ 
tagonism  to  the  church  had  broken  forth,  as  the  Jewish 


236  THE  GROUNDS  OF  TIIEISTTO  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


war  approached,  in  acts  of  violence.  At  an  earliei 
day  persecution  of  the  Jewish  Christians  is  referred 
to  by  Paul  (1  Thess.  ii.  14),  and  in  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews  (x.  32-35).  In  the  year  44,  Herod  Agrippa  I., 
a  rigid  Jew,  had  seized  and  killed  John’s  own  brother, 
James.  About  a  score  of  years  later  —  Hegesippus 
places  the  event  just  before  the  siege  of  Jerusalem 
by  Vespasian  —  even  James  the  Just,  the  brother  o£ 
Jesus,  who  had  been  least  of  all  offensive  to  Jewish 
zealots  for  the  old  ritual,  was  stoned  to  death  by  the 
fanatical  populace  and  their  leaders.  Concurrent  proofs 
justify  the  conclusion,  that,  on  the  breaking-out  of  the 
war  with  the  Romans,  not  only  John,  but  a  company 
of  disciples,  including  in  their  number  one  or  more  ot 
the  other  apostles,  went  to  Asia.  There  at  Ephesus, 
in  the  midst  of  the  Gentile  churches,  the  Apostle  John 
continued  for  many  years.  He  must  have  been  an  im¬ 
passive  spectator  indeed,  not  to  have  read  the  import 
of  the  events  which  made  the  true  significance  of 
Christianity,  and  the  position  which  belonged  to  it  in 
relation  to  the  Old-Testament  religion  and  people,  as 
clear  as  noonday.  His  must  have  been  a  sluggish  mind 
indeed,  if,  even  independently  of  supernatural  aid,  the 
teaching  of  Jesus  respecting  the  spiritual  and  catholic 
nature  of  religion  and  of  his  kingdom  had  not  been 
brought  with  new  vividness  to  his  recollection,  and  its 
contents  more  clearly  apprehended  in  the  light  of  the 
i evolution  which  had  subverted  the  Jewish  sanctuary 
and  sta':e,  and  of  the  malignant,  persevering  hostility 
which  had  sent  him  and  his  fellow-disciples  as  outcasts 
into  the  bc^om  of  the  churches  which  Paul  had  planted 
among  the  heathen.  What  is  the  attitude  of  this 
Gospel  towards  the  religion  and  the  people  of  the  old 
covenant?  If  mention  is  made  of  “  the  Jews,”  the  same 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  237 


phrase  is  on  the  lips  of  Paul,1  whose  ardent  love  to  his 
countrymen  is  plain  to  all  his  readers.  The  author  of 
the  fourth  Gospel  is  a  reverent  believer  in  Moses  and 
the  prophets  (i.  47,  iv.  22,  x.  35).  It  is  from  his  report 
that  we  are  made  acquainted  with  the  pregnant  words 
of  Jesus,  “Salvation  is  of  the  Jews”  (iv.  22).  He  is 
represented  as  having  come  to  “his  own”  (i.  11): 
the  Jews  were  “  his  own  ”  in  a  peculiar  sense.  Their 
refusal  to  receive  him  is  to  the  author’s  mind  an  event 
full  of  pathos.  If  the  ecclesiastical  tradition  respecting 
the  date  of  the  Gospel  and  the  place  and  circumstances 
of  its  composition  is  accepted,  there  is  nothing  in  the 
tone  of  the  author  in  the  least  incongruous  with  the 
belief  that  he  was  John  the  Apostle. 

The  Tubingen  school  have  insisted  that  John  couid 
not  have  written  both  the  Apocalypse  and  the  Gospel. 
It  is  true  that  the  differences  in  style,  and  in  the  style 
of  thought,  between  these  two  books,  are  such  that  both 
could  hardly  have  been  written  at  the  same  time  or 
from  the  same  mood  of  feeling.  But  that  it  is  impossible 
for  an  author,  who  under  the  influence  of  the  emotions 
roused  in  him  by  Jewish  and  heathen  persecutions,  in 
the  mood  of  prophetic  exaltation,  wrote  the  Revelation, 
to  compose  works  like  the  Gospel  and  first  Epistle  twent}r 
or  thirty  years  after,  under  entirely  altered  conditions 
of  outward  and  inward  experience,  is  more  than  can  be 
safely  affirmed.  The  Tubingen  critics  have  erroneously 
attributed  to  the  Apocalypse  a  Judaizing  and  anti-Pau¬ 
line  spirit.2  But  the  same  critics  have  themselves 
pointed  out  marked  resemblances  between  the  Gospel 
and  the  Apocalypse.  Baur  styled  the  Gospel  a  spiritu¬ 
alized  ( vergeistigte )  Apocalypse.  It  is  remarkable  that 

1  Gal.  i.  13,  14  :  “  the  Jews’  religion.”  • 

2  See  Weiss,  Leben  Jesu,  p.  98. 


238  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


in  the  Revelation,  Christ  is  called  “the  Word  [Logos] 
of  God”  (Rev.  xix.  13).  Those  who  are  disposed  to 
accept  the  dilemma  of  the  Tubingen  school  as  justified 
are  bound  in  candor  to  admit  that  the  evidence  which 
connects  John  with  the  Gospel  is  decidedly  stronger 
than  that  of  his  writing  the  Apocalypse.  This  is  the 
fact  as  regards  even  the  external  proofs.  The  Book 
of  Revelation  was  not  embraced  in  the  Reshito,  the 
ancient  Syriac  version. 

Another  objection  to  the  Johannine  authorship  is 
the  alleged  indebtedness  of  the  author  of  the  Gospel  to 
Philo  for  the  conception  of  the  Logos,  or  Word,  which 
stands  at  the  beginning  of  the  book  as  a  designation  of 
Christ  in  his  state  of  pre-existence.  The  first  remark 
to  be  made  in  answer  to  this  allegation  is,  that  the  idea 
of  the  Logos,  and  the  doctrine  associated  with  it,  in  the 
Gospel,  are  utterly  at  variance  with  the  system  of  Alex¬ 
andrian- Jewish  philosophy,  of  which  Philo  is  the  leading 
representative.  In  the  Gospel,  the  Logos  is  personal. 
In  Philo,  the  Logos  is  predominantly  the  self-revealing 
potence  of  the  hidden,  ineffable  Deity.  If,  as  Zeller 
holds,1  the  Logos  is  ever  thought  of  by  Philo  as  a  real 
hypostasis,  the  passages  having  this  import  stand 
opposed  to  the  current  of  his  teaching.  Many  of  the 
soundest  expositors  of  Philo  do  not  concur  in  the  opin¬ 
ion  of  Zeller,  that  the  Logos  in  his  writings  is  ever  con¬ 
ceived  of  as  truly  personal.2  Again :  the  notion  of  the 
Logos  in  Philo  is  usually  the  Platonic  idea  of  “reason.” 
It  is  this  idea  which  he  more  commonly  connects  with 
the  term,  and  not  the  Old-Testament  conception  of  the 
Word;  whereas  in  the  Gospel  the  Platonic  conception 

1  Geseli.  d.  Graech.  Phil.,  iii.  2,  p.  329. 

£  See  Dorner,  Entwicklungsgesch.  d.  Lehr,  von  d.  Pers.  Chri&t,  i.  105 
23  seq. 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  239 


is  utterly  absent.  Once  more  —  and  this  is  the  most 
important  consideration — the  cardinal  thought  of  the 
prologue  of  the  Gospel,  that  of  the  incarnation  of  the 
Logos,  is  in  direct  antagonism  to  the  fundamental  phi¬ 
losophy  of  Philo.  His  system  is  dualistic.  Matter,  in 
his  view,  is  utterly  alien  to  the  Deity.  Nothing  can  be 
more  repugnant  to  the  system  of  Philo  than  the  declara¬ 
tion  that  “  the  Logos  became  flesh  ”  (i.  14).  The  Judaic 
Gnosticism,  which  denied  the  incarnation  as  any  thing 
more  than  an  appearance,  or  temporary  connection  of 
the  divine  Christ  with  the  man  Jesus,  was  the  legitimate 
and  actual  offspring  of  the  Philonian  speculation.  It 
was  Cerinthus,  who  probably  began  his  career  at  Alex¬ 
andria,  against  whom,  according  to  the  declaration  of 
Irenaeus,  John  wrote.  Cerinthus  carried  out  the  dualis¬ 
tic  theory,  and  taught  that  the  heavenly  Christ  joined 
himself  to  Jesus  at  his  baptism,  and  forsook  him  at  the 
passion.  The  theology  of  the  Gospel  and  first  Epistle, 
so  far  from  being  borrowed  from  Philo,  is  repugnant  to 
his  essential  doctrine  and  to  the  heretical  scheme  based 
on  it.  Finally,  even  the  phraseology  of  John  can  be 
accounted  for  by  supposing  it  drawn  mainly,  and  per¬ 
haps  exclusively,  from  the  Old  Testament.  The  pro¬ 
logue  makes  it  evident  that  he  had  in  mind  the  narrative 
of  the  creation  by  the  word  of  God,  in  Genesis.  The 
“  word  ”  of  God  is  said  in  the  Old  Testament  to  have 
come  to  the  prophets,  revealing  his  attributes  and  will.1 
In  the  Psalms  and  in  Isaiah  the  u  word  ”  is  personified, 
and  divine  attributes  and  works  are  attributed  to  it.3 
From  these  sources  the  evangelist  may  have  taken  up 
the  term  which  struck  him  as  most  fit  to  designate  the 
personal  Revealer  of  God,  whose  incarnation,  and  life 

1  Isa.  i.  4-11,  cf.  Isa.  ii.  3. 

2  Ps.  xxxiii.  6,  cvii.  20,  cxlvii.  15  ;  Isa.  lv.  10  seq 


240  TIIE  GROUNDS  Oi  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


in  the  flesh,  he  was  about  to  describe.  Whether  the 
choice  of  this  term  by  the  author  of  the  Goipel  is  to  be 
accounted  for  wholly  in  this  way,  from  its  Old-Testa¬ 
ment  use,  as  Weiss  thinks,  or  whether  discussions  about 
the  Logos,  which  were  fomented  by  Alexandrian  specu¬ 
lation,  may  have  likewise  influenced  him  in  his  selec¬ 
tion  of  phraseology,  are  questions  into  which  we  do  not 
here  enter.  At  all  events,  the  term  “  Logos  ”  was  found 
by  him  to  be  a  proper  vehicle  for  expressing  that  idea 
of  Christ  which  his  own  testimony,  and  the  impression 
made  by  his  life,  had  stamped  upon  the  disciple’s  mind. 
Could  it  be  proved  that  the  source  of  this  term  v<vs 
Alexandrian,  the  apostle’s  definition  of  it  was  none  the 
less  a  reversal  or  rectification  of  the  Alexandrian  idea 
connected  with  it.1  Philo’s  philosophy,  it  should  not 
be  forgotten,  was  not  all  his  own  creation.  It  had  its 
roots  in  prior,  widely-diffused  Judaic  speculation.  In 
the  reports  of  the  teaching  of  Christ  in  the  fourth 


i  Dr.  E.  A.  Abbot  On  the  art.  Gospels,  Enc.  Brit.,  vol.  x.)  traces 
various  passages  in  John  to  Philo.  But  why  go  so  far,  when  the  Old 
Testament  furnishes  abundant  materials  suggestive  of  the  imagery 
which  is  contained  in  every  passage  which  Dr.  Abbot  refers  to  ?  The 
evangelist’s  account  of  the  visit  of  the  Samaritan  woman  to  the  well 
(chap,  iv.)  is  said  to  remind  us  of  Philo’s  contrast  between  Hagar  at 
the  well  and  Rebekah  (Posterity  of  Cain,  xli.).  Why,  then,  does  the 
evangelist  make  the  woman  carry  a  pitcher,  like  Rebekah,  while  in 
Philo  one  point  of  the  contrast  is  that  she  carries  a  “leathern  bag”? 
The  reader  who  will  consult  an  English  concordance  under  the  words 
“well,”  “wells,”  “water,”  “waters,”  “living  water,”  “fountain,” 
“fountains,”  “drink,”  will  see  how  much  closer  the  parallels  are 
between  John  iv.  and  the  Old  Testament  than  between  that  chapter 
and  Philo.  For  example,  for  “  wells  of  salvation,  ”  see  Isa.  xii.  3;  com¬ 
pare  Prov.  x.  11,  xvi.  22,  xviii.  4.  For  “fountain  of  living  water,”  see 
Jer.  ii.  13  ;  compare  Isa.  lviii.  11,  Jer.  xvii.  13;  Cant.  iv.  1  %  See  also 
Rev.  xxi.  6,  which  will  not  be  attributed  to  Philo.  “Ye  di  ilk  ;  but  ye 
are  not  filled  with  drink”  (Hag.  i.  6).  As  for  the  figuiAtiVe  use  of 
“bread,”  the  suggestions  in  the  Old  Testament  are  numerous.  Foi 
the  expression  “bread  of  heaven,”  see  Ps.  cv.  40  ;  compare  Ps.  lxxviii. 
20,  15, 16. 


FOLIC  AUTHORS!!  /P  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  241 


Gospel  tlie  term  “  Logos  ”  nowhere  appears.  It  is  clear 
that  the  author  merely  sums  up  in  the  prologue,  in 
language  of  his  own,  the  instruction  which  Christ  had 
given  concerning  himself. 

The  author  of  the  Gospel  was  a  Jew  and  a  Palestin¬ 
ian.  The  strong  Hebraic  coloring  of  his  style  is 
acknowledged  by  Keim,1  as  well  as  affirmed  by  Ewald.3 
The  principal  conceptions,  as  “life,”  “light,”  “truth,” 
are  drawn  from  the  circle  of  Old-Testament  thought. 
The  authority  of  the  Old  Testament,  the  inspiration  of 
Moses  and  the  prophets,  are  assumed.3  With  the  char¬ 
acteristic  elements  of  the  Messianic  expectation  the 
author  is  familiar.  The  same  is  true  of  Jewish  opin¬ 
ions  and  customs  generally ;  for  example,  the  usages 
connected  with  marriage  and  with  the  burial  of  the 
dead.  Witness  his  acquaintance  with  the  prejudice 
against  conversing  with  women  (iv.  27),  with  the 
mutual  hatred  of  Jews  and  Samaritans  (iv.  9),  with 
the  opinion  that  deformity  or  suffering  implies  sin 
(ix.  2).  He  is  intimately  conversant  with  Jewish 
observances,  as  is  seen  in  what  he  says  of  the  “last  day 
of  the  feast”  (vii.  37),  —  the  day  added  to  the  original 
seven,  —  the  wedding  at  Cana,  the  burial  of  Lazarus.4 
The  allusions  to  the  geography  of  the  Holy  Land  are 
those  of  one  personally  conversant  with  the  places. 
He  knows  how  to  distinguish  Cana  of  Galilee  from 
another  place,  of  more  consequence,  of  the  same  name 
(ii.  11).  Of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  the  passage  across,  and 
the  paths  on  its  shores,  he  has  an  accurate  recollection. 
Inspecting  the  topography  at  the  opening  of  chap,  iv., 

1  Gesch.  Jesu,  i.  116.  2  Johann.  Schriften,  i.  44  seq. 

*  i.  45,  iii.  14,  v.  46,  vi.  32,  vii.  38,  viii.  56,  x.  35,  xii.  14  seq.,  37  seq.f 

xv.  25,  xix.  23  seq.,  28,  35,  36,  37,  xx.  31. 

4  Cf.  Westcott,  Comm,  on  St.  John’s  Gospel,  p.  vi. 


242  TKE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRIST.  AN  RELIEt 


Renan  remarks  that  it  could  emanate  only  from  one  who 
had  often  passed  into  the  Valley  of  Sycliem.1  He  has 
in  his  mind  the  image  of  the  Pavement,  or  platform  on 
which  Pilate’s  chair  was  placed,  with  its  Hebrew  name, 
Gabbatha  (xix.  13). 

We  have  now  to  consider  the  relation  of  the  fourth 
Gospel  to  the  other  three.  Here  the  same  phenomena 
which  persuade  some  that  the  fourth  Gospel  is  spurious 
convince  others  that  it  is  genuine.  The  longer  ministry 
of  Jesus,  —  extending  to  at  least  two  years  and  a  half,  and 
probably  to  three  years  and  a  half,  —  and  his  extended 
labors  in  Judsea,  are  obvious  peculiarities  of  the  fourth 
evangelist.  But  his  representation  of  the  life  and  min¬ 
istry  of  Christ,  although  independent,  is  not  contra¬ 
dictory  to  that  of  the  synoptists.  The  “  country  ”  of 
Jesus,  it  is  to  be  observed,  is  still  Galilee;  for  this  is 
the  right  interpretation  of  John  iv.  44.  Luke,  in  the 
long  passage  relating  to  the  last  journey  of  Jesus  to 
Jerusalem  (ix.  51-xviii.  14),  brings  together  matter,  a 
portion  of  which  appears  to  belong  in  connection  with 
the  ministry  in  Judaea.  Independently  of  such  parti¬ 
culars  as  the  relation  of  Christ  to  the  family  of  Mary 
and  Martha,  the  lament  of  Jesus  over  Jerusalem  (Luke 
xiii.  34  seq. ;  Matt,  xxiii.  37  seq.)  admits  of  no  tolera¬ 
ble  explanation,  except  on  the  supposition  that  he  had 
frequently  taught  there.  “  How  often  ”  must  have 
meant  more  than  the  efforts  of  a  few  days.  The  ap<3S< 
trophe  plainly  refers  to  the  city,  not  to  the  Jewish  people 
as  a  whole,  to  whom  Baur  would  arbitrarily  apply  it. 
In  Luke,  the  verse  immediately  before  reads,  “For  it 
cannot  be  that  a  prophet,  perish  out  of  Jerusalem.” 2 

1  Vie  de  Je'sus  (13tli  ed.),  p.  493. 

2  For  Strauss’s  abortive  attempt  to  escape  from  the  only  rational 
interpretation  of  the  Saviour’s  lament,  see  The  Supernatural  Origin  of 
Christianity,  p.  100  seq. 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  243 

This  passage  establishes  on  the  authority  of  the  synop- 
tists,  beyond  the  reach  of  doubt  or  cavil,  the  longer 
Judean  ministry  of  Jesus,  and  thus  confirms  the  testi¬ 
mony  of  the  fourth  Gospel  in  this  essential  particular. 
Luke  (vi.  1)  distinctly  implies  the  intervention  of  at 
least  one  passover  between  the  beginning  and  the  close 
of  his  public  life.  Who  can  avoid  seeing  that  the  pro¬ 
found  impression  made  by  Jesus  is  far  better  accounted 
for  if  we  accept  the  chronology  of  the  fourth  Gospel 
than  if  we  conceive  his  ministry  limited  to  about  a 
twelvemonth?  The  truth  appears  to  be,  that  in  the 
early  oral  narration  of  the  life  and  teaching  of  Christ, 
perhaps  for  the  reason  that  his  labors  in  Jerusalem  and 
the  neighborhood  were  more  familiar  to  the  Christians 
there,  the  Galilean  ministry  was  chiefly  described. 
The  matter  was  massed  under  the  three  general  heads 
of  his  baptism,  and  intercourse  with  John  the  Baptist, 
his  work  in  Galilee,  and  the  visit  to  Jerusalem  at  the 
passover,  when  he  was  crucified.  If  the  author  of  the 
fourth  Gospel  was  a  non-apostolic  writer  of  the  second 
century,  no  satisfactory  reason  can  be  conjectured  for 
his  deliberate  departure  from  the  apparent  chronology 
of  the  received  authorities.  He  might  easily  have 
brought  Jesus  into  conflict  with  Pharisees  more  fre¬ 
quently  elsewhere  than  in  Judaea.  He  might  have 
invented  visits  intermediate  between  the  two  passovers. 
If,  as  is  alleged,  he  was  of  an  anti- Judaic  spirit,  why 
should  he  thus  cling  to  the  passovers?  Why  should 
he  present  a  chronological  scheme  which  could  only 
tend  to  provoke  suspicion,  and  expose  him  to  contradic¬ 
tion  and  detection  ?  The  writer,  whoever  he  was,  was 
evidently  acquainted  with  one,  if  not  all,  of  the  earlier 
Gospels.1  Why  did  he  not  set  his  new  portrait  into  the 


1  See  John  iii.  24. 


244  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

old  frame  ?  The  most  reasonable  hypothesis  certainly 
is,  that  he  was  conversant  with  the  facts,  and  was 
possessed  of  a  conscious  and  acknowledged  authority 
which  excluded  from  his  mind  all  fear  of  contradiction. 

The  alleged  discrepancy  between  the  fourth  Gospel 
and  the  synoptists,  respecting  the  day  of  the  month 
when  Christ  was  crucified,  has  been  urged  as  an  argu¬ 
ment,  both  by  those  who  advocate,  and  those  who  oppose, 
the  Johannine  authorship.  Was  that  Friday  the  14th, 
or  the  15th,  of  Nisan  ?  And  was  the  Last  Supper  at 
the  usual  time  of  the  passover  meal,  or  on  the  evening 
before  ?  It  is  held  by  many  scholars  that  there  is  here 
a  discrepancy  between  the  fourth  evangelist  and  the 
other  Gospels ;  that  he,  unlike  them,  makes  the  Last 
Supper  to  have  occurred  on  the  evening  before  the  day 
on  which  the  passover  lamb  was  killed  and  eaten, 
and  the  crucifixion  on  the  morning  following.  Bleek, 
Neander,  Weiss,  and  numerous  others,  admitting  the 
discrepancy,  bring  forward  considerations  to  prove  the 
superior  accuracy  of  the  fourth  Gospel  in  this  particu¬ 
lar,  some  of  which  are  drawn  from  incidental  observa¬ 
tions  in  the  synoptists  themselves.  The  Tubingen  school 
insisted  on  the  opposite  inference.  They  have  con¬ 
tended  that  the  author  of  the  fourth  Gospel  purposely 
misdated  these  events  in  order  to  make  the  crucifixion 
synchronize  with  the  slaying  of  the  paschal  lamb,  his 
intent  being  to  convey  the  idea  that  the  passover  is  sup¬ 
planted  by  the  offering  of  Christ,  u  the  Lamb  of  God.” 

The  renewed  examination  of  the  Gospels  has  led  me 
more  and  more  to  doubt  whether  the  fourth  evangelist 
really  differs  from  the  synoptists  as  they  are  ordinarily 
understood.1  I  cannot  but  think  that  the  more  con- 


1  That  John  is  in  harmony  with  the  synoptists  on  this  point  has  been 
maintained  Ly  Dr.  E.  Robinson,  Wieseler,  Tlioluck,  Norton,  and  others; 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  245 


Bervative  critics,  as  Meyer,  Weiss,  Westcott,  Ellicott, 
have  asserted  with  an  unwarranted  degree  of  confidence 
the  interpretation  of  John  which  places  the  Last  Supper 
on  the  day  prior  to  that  of  the  paschal  meal.  It  is  still 
a  very  doubtful  question  of  exegesis.  On  the  supposi¬ 
tion,  however,  that  the  discrepancy  really  exists,  there 
is  no  just  ground  for  the  conclusion  unfavorable  to  the 
accuracy  of  the  fourth  Gospel.  The  motive  assigned 
by  the  Tubingen  school  for  the  alleged  falsification  of 
the  date  is  totally  insufficient.  In  the  first  place,  if  the 
author  of  the  Gospel  had  wished  to  represent  Christ 
as  the  antitype  of  the  paschal  lamb,  he  had  no  need  to 
alter  the  chronology  for  this  end.  Christ  is  termed  by 
Paul  “  our  passover  ”  (1  Cor.  v.  7).  In  the  second  place, 
it  is  not  certain  even  that  the  evangelist  designs  thus 
to  represent  Christ.  It  is  quite  as  likely  that  the  appel¬ 
lation  “  Lamb  of  God  ”  was  taken  from  Isa.  liii.  7  as 
from  Exod.  xxix.  38  seq.  It  is  more  probable  that  the 
passage  quoted  by  the  evangelist,  “  A  bone  of  him  shall 
not  be  broken  ”  (xix.  36),  was  taken  from  Ps.  xxxiv.  20 
than  from  the  law  relative  to  the  paschal  offering 
(Exod.  xii.  46,  Num.  ix.  12).1  On  any  reasonable  view 
of  the  case,  had  the  evangelist  thought  that  the  minute 
identification  of  J esus  with  the  paschal  lamb  was  of  so 
vital  consequence  that  he  must  needs  run  the  risk  of 
devising  a  false  chronology  in  contradiction  to  the 
received  Gospels,  he  would  surely  have  made  the  par¬ 
allelism  much  more  obvious.  He  would  have  gone 
farther  than  merely  to  insinuate  it.  How  could  he  have 

considered  it  essential  that  Christ,  as  the  antitype  of 

• 

also,  more  recently,  by  Keil,  Comm.  ii.  das  Evangel,  d.  Matt.,  pp.  513- 
528;  Lutbardt,  Comm.  u.  das  Evangel.  Johann.;  McLellan,  The  New 
Testament,  etc.,  vol.  i.  pp.  473-494. 

1  S-w  Hutton’s  thoughtful  essay  on  John’s  Gospel  (Essays,  vol.  i 
p.  195). 


246  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

the  passover  lamb,  should  die  on  the  14th  of  Nisan, 
when,  according  to  the  theory  of  the  Tubingen  critics, 
it  wras  known  to  him  that  he  did  not  ? 

The  Quartodeciman  observance  in  Asia  Minor  is  a 
topic  closely  connected  with  the  foregoing.  That  was 
on  the  14th  of  Nisan.  But  what  did  it  commemorate  ? 
Many  scholars  have  thought  that  it  was  the  crucifixion 
of  Jesus.  If  this  be  so,  it  is  a  direct  argument  for  the 
interpretation  of  the  fourth  Gospel,  which  would  make 
the  crucifixion  on  the  morning  of  the  day  when  the 
lamb  was  killed  and  eaten,  and  at  the  same  time  con¬ 
firms  the  evangelist’s  accuracy  on  this  point.  But, 
since  the  able  essay  of  Schurer,  his  opinion,  which  corre¬ 
sponds  with  that  formerly  defended  by  Bleek  and  Giese- 
ler,  has  gained  ground,  that  the  Quartodeciman  Supper 
on  the  evening  of  the  14th  of  Nisan  was  primarily  the 
Jewish  passover,  kept  at  the  usual  time,  but  trans¬ 
formed  into  a  Christian  festival.  John  found  the  festi 
val  in  being  when  he  came  to  Asia  Minor,  and  may  well 
have  left  it  to  stand,  “whether  he  regarded  the  13th  oi 
the  14th  as  the  day  of  the  Last  Supper.”  1  It  is  certain 
that  the  defenders  of  the  Quartodeciman  practice  in 
Asia  found  nothing  in  the  fourth  Gospel  to  clash  with 
their  views.  Polycrates,  bishop  of  Ephesus  towards  the 
end  of  the  second  century,  pointed  back  to  the  example 
of  John  “who  leaned  on  the  bosom  of  the  Saviour.’ 
It  appears  quite  astonishing  that  a  Gospel  should  have 
been  forged  in  opposition  to  the  tenet  of  the  Quarto 
decimans,  but  treating  the  matter  so  obscurely  that 
their  leaders  failed  to  discover  in  it  any  condemnation 

1  Zeitsclir.  fur  List.  Theol.,  1870,  pp.  182-284.  For  an  exposition  of 
the  view  of  Weitzel  and  Steitz,  that  the  Quartodecimans  commemorated 
the  crucifixion,  see  The  Supernatural  Origin  of  Christianity  (0d  eel.), 
p.  584  seq. 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  247 

uf  their  custom.  It  is  not  agreed  what  piecise  position 
on  the  paschal  controversy  was  taken  by  Apollinaris, 
bishop  of  Hierapolis,  the  successor,  and  it  may  be  the 
next  successor,  of  Papias,  in  the  second  century.  But 
this  is  known,  that  he  recognized  the  fourth  Gospel,  and 
made  his  appeal  to  it.  We  may  dismiss  the  Quarto- 
deciman  discussion  as  affording,  even  in  the  view  of 
such  opponents  of  the  genuineness  of  the  fourth  Gos¬ 
pel  as  Schurer,  no  argument  in  favor  of  their  opinion 
on  this  subject. 

Were  there  space  to  compare  various  features  in 
the  history  which  are  common  to  the  synoptists  and 
the  fourth  Gospel,  we  should  find  the  statements  of  the 
latter  worthy  of  credit.  If  we  are  obliged  to  choose 
between  the  first  and  the  last  passover  as  the  probable 
date  of  the  driving  of  the  money-changers  from  the 
temple,  the  probability  is  decidedly  in  favor  of  the  date 
assigned  by  the  fourth  evangelist.  Then  John  the 
Baptist  was  fresh  in  the  recollection  of  the  people. 
As  another  example,  may  be  mentioned  the  account 
given  in  John  of  the  temporary  connection  of  several  of 
the  disciples  of  Jesus  writh  him  immediately  after  his 
baptism,  —  a  circumstance  which  explains,  what  would 
otherwise  be  difficult  to  understand,  their  instant  obe¬ 
dience  to  his  call  to  forsake  their  occupations,  and  enter 
into  a  permanent  connection  with  him. 

The  next  topic  to  be  considered  is  the  discourses 
of  Christ  as  given  in  the  fourth  Gospel,  considered  in 
themselves  and  in  relation  to  the  reports  of  his  teach¬ 
ing  by  the  synoptists.  The  ordinary  effect  of  oral 
repetition  is  to  single  out  the  salient  points  of  a  narra¬ 
tive,  to  sift  it  of  a  portion  of  its  details,  and  to  preserve 
or  impart  a  certain  terseness  and  home-bred  vigor  to 
the  diction.  These  traits  frequently  appear  in  the  first 


24S  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


three  Gospels.  The  fourth  Gospel  is  made  up  of  per* 
sonal  recollections,  in  a  style  marked  by  the  individu¬ 
ality  of  the  author,  and  charged  throughout  with 
emotion.  The  discourses  are  in  the  same  style  of  ex¬ 
pression  as  the  narrative  portions  of  the  Gospel  and  as 
the  first  Epistle.  No  doubt  it  must  be  assumed  that 
the  teaching  of  Jesus  was  heard,  assimilated,  and  re¬ 
produced  mainly  in  the  author’s  own  phraseology. 
This  supposition  is  perfectly  consistent  with  the  essen¬ 
tial  faithfulness  of  his  recollection.  Let  an  ardent  and 
sympathetic  pupil  listen  to  a  public  discourse  of  a 
teacher.  Suppose  him  to  undertake  afterwards  to  relate 
in  a  condensed  way  what  was  said,  for  the  information 
of  another.  It  will  be  natural  for  him  to  cast  what  he 
will  convey  to  his  auditor,  in  part  and  perhaps  alto¬ 
gether,  in  his  own  phraseology,  and  even,  almost  un¬ 
consciously,  to  mingle  an  explanatory  element  to  aid 
the  comprehension  of  the  listener.  It  is  the  teacher 
who  forms  the  pupil.  The  essential  conceptions  of  the 
teacher  become,  so  to  speak,  the  staple  of  his  habitual 
thoughts.  The  ideas  and  the  spirit  of  the  instructor 
are  more  effectually,  they  are,  it  might  be  added,  more 
truly,  transmitted  by  this  method  to  other  minds  than 
might  otherwise  be  possible,  unless,  perchance,  a  verba¬ 
tim  report  of  his  discourses  could  be  presented.  It  is 
one  proof  of  the  genuineness  of  the  Gospel,  and  of  the 
essential  correctness  of  the  relation  given  of  the  dis¬ 
courses,  that  the  author  is  so  filled  with  the  spirit  of 
his  Master’s  teaching,  so  absorbed  in  the  substance 
of  it,  that  here  and  there  he  insensibly  passes  from 
the  Master’s  words  into  reflections  of  his  own,  without 
distinctly  marking  the  point  of  transition.  Incidentally 
there  occur  undesigned  tokens  of  the  fidelity  of  the 
evangelist’s  memory.  One  of  the  most  striking  in- 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  249 


stances  is  the  introduction  of  the  words,  “  Arise,  let  us 
go  hence  ”  (John  xiy.  31),  which  are  not  explained,  but 
which  imply  a  change  of  place,  —  perhaps  a  leaving  of 
the  table  to  go  forth  towards  the  garden.  Had  they 
formed  a  part  of  a  fictitious  narrative,  it  is  impossible 
to  suppose  that  they  would  not  have  been  connected 
with  a  statement  of  what  the  action  was  that  is  implied 
in  them. 

Who  can  doubt  that  Jesus  said  much  more,  and, 
especially  in  converse  with  his  disciples,  spoke  in  more 
continuous  discourse,  than  the  synoptists  relate  ?  They 
preserve,  for  example,  but  a  few  sentences  which  were 
uttered  on  the  occasion  of  the  Last  Supper.  Yet  he 
sat  with  the  disciples  the  greater  part  of  the  night. 
Here,  again,  the  peculiarity  of  the  oral  tradition,  in 
contrast  with  the  full  narrative  of  a  person  who  draws 
from  the  store  of  his  own  recollections,  is  manifest. 
As  regards  the  Saviour’s  manner  of  teaching,  there  are 
striking  resemblances  between  the  discourses  in  John 
and  his  method  of  instruction  as  described  in  the  synop¬ 
tical  Gospels.  It  is  said  that  in  John  he  makes  use 
of  symbols,  as  in  the  connecting  of  physical  blindness 
with  spiritual  (ix.  39-41).  But  how  does  this  differ 
from  such  a  saying  as,  “  Let  the  dead  bury  their  dead”? 
(Matt.  viii.  22.)  It  is  said  that  in  John  his  figures  are 
frequently  misunderstood  by  his  disciples.  But  in  the 
synoptists  we  have  such  statements  as,  “  Beware  of  the 
leaven  of  the  Pharisees  and  Saclducees  ”  (Matt.  xvi.  11), 
which  the  disciples  failed  to  comprehend ;  and,  “  He 
that  hath  no  sword,  let  him  sell  his  garment,  and  buy 
one  ”  (Luke  xxii.  36),  which  the  disciples  misunder¬ 
stood,  and  which  Jesus  did  not  stop  to  explain.  Such 
an  illustration  as  that  of  the  good  shepherd  (chap,  x.) 
belongs  to  the  same  method  of  teaching  which  dictated 


250  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


the  parables  recorded  in  the  first  three  Gospels.  The 
close  examination  of  the  two  authorities,  John  and  the 
synoptists,  brings  to  light  numerous  resemblances  in 
the  modes  in  which  the  religions  thoughts  of  Christ 
are  set  forth,  such  as  might  not  attract  the  attention  of 
a  cursory  reader.1 

As  regards  theology,  there  are  traces  in  the  synop- 
tists  of  the  same  vein  of  teaching  which  is  so  prominent 
in  the  fourth  Gospel.  The  memorable  passage  in  Matt, 
xi.  27,  “No  man  knoweth  the  Son  but  the  Father, 

1  On  this  topic,  see  Luthardt,  Der  Joliann.  Ursprung,  etc.,  p.  185  seq., 
or  Godet,  Comm.,  etc.,  p.  189  seq.;  also  Westcott,  Comm,  on  St.  John’s 
Gospel  (Am.  ed.),  p.  lxxxii.  seq.  Among  the  passages  are  John  ii.  19, 
“  Destroy  this  temple,”  etc.  (Matt.  xxvi.  61,  xxvii.  40;  Mark  xiv.  58,  xv. 
29),  John  iv.  44,  “  A  prophet  hath  no  honor,”  etc.  (Matt.  xiii.  57;  Mark 
vi.  4;  Luke  iv.  24),  John  v.  8,  “Rise,  take  up  thy  bed,”  etc.  (Matt.  ix. 
5  seq.;  Mark  ii.  9;  Luke  v.  24),  John  vi.  20  (Matt.  xiv.  27;  Mark  vi.  50), 
John  vi.  35  (Matt.  v.  6;  Luke  vi.  21),  John  vi.  46  (Matt.  xi.  27;  Luke  x. 
21  seq.),  John  xii.  7  (Matt.  xxvi.  12;  Mark  xiv.  8),  John  xii.  8  (Matt, 
xxvi.  11;  Mark  xiv.  7),  John  xii.  25,  “lie  that  loveth  his  life,”  etc. 
(Matt.  x.  39,  xvi.  25;  Mark  viii.  35;  Luke  ix.  24),  John  xii.  27,  “Now  is 
my  soul  troubled”  (Matt.  xxvi.  28;  Mark  xiv.  34  seq.),  John  xiii.  3, 
“  knowing  that  the  Father  had  given  all  things  into  his  hands”  (Matt, 
xi.  27;  Luke  x.  21  seq.),  John  xiii.  16  (Matt.  x.  24;  Luke  vi.  40),  John 

xiii.  20  (Matt.  x.  40;  Luke  x.  16),  John  xiii.  21  (Matt.  xxvi.  21;  Mark 

xiv.  18),  John  xiii.  38  (Matt.  xxvi.  34;  Mark  xiv.  30;  Luke  xxii.  34), 
John  xiv.  18  (Matt,  xxviii.  20),  John  xv.  20  (Matt.  x.  25),  John  xv.  21 
(Matt.  x.  22),  John  xvi.  32  (Matt.  xxvi.  31;  Mark  xiv.  27),  John  xvii.  2 
(Matt,  xxviii.  18),  John  xviii.  11  (Matt.  xxvi.  39,  52;  Mark  xiv.  36;  Luke 
xxii.  42),  John  xviii.  20  (Matt.  xxvi.  55),  John  xviii.  33  (Matt,  xxvii.  11), 
John  xx.  23  (Matt.  xvi.  19  and  xviii.  18).  The  terms  “  life  ”  and  “  eternal 
life  ”  are  found  in  Matthew,  and  are  even  interchanged  with  “  kingdom 
of  heaven.”  Compare  Matt,  xviii.  3  with  ver.  8;  xix.  17  with  ver.  23; 
xxv.  34  with  ver.  46;  ix.  45  with  ver.  47.  These  resemblances  to  the 
synoptists  are  wholly  inartificial.  Professor  Iloltzmann’s  attempt  vo 
show  that  words  and  phrases  are  culled  from  the  synoptists  by  the 
author  of  the  fourth  Gospel,  and  put  together  in  a  kind  of  mosaic,  is 
a  failure.  The  inference  finds  no  warrant  in  the  data  brought  forward 
to  sustain  it.  The  fourth  Gospel  is  as  far  as  possible  from,  being  a 
mechanical  composite  of  scraps  of  phraseology  gathered  from  other 
sources.  It  has  a  homogeneousness,  a  continuity,  a  life,  which  never 
could  have  belonged  to  it  had  it  been  composed  in  the  artificial  wa.y 
supposed. 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  251 


neither  knoweth  any  man  the  Father  save  the  Son  and 
he  to  whomsoever  the  Son  will  reveal  him,”  is  in  content 
and  style  coincident  with  what  we  find  in  John.  It  is 
a  specimen  of  that  sort  of  teaching  respecting  himself 
and  his  relation  to  God,  which  we  have  good  reason  to 
expect  that  Christ  would  impart  to  his  followers.  Is 
it  probable  that  he  would  have  left  them  in  the  dark 
on  those  questions  in  regard  to  which  they  must  inev¬ 
itably  have  craved  instruction,  and  which  form  so  large 
a  portion  of  the  teaching  in  John?  The  institution  of 
the  Lord’s  Supper  as  it  is  recorded  by  the  synoptists 
implies  that  instruction  respecting  his  person  and  con¬ 
cerning  the  spiritual  reception  of  himself,  such  teach¬ 
ing  as  is  given  in  John  vi.,  had  been  imparted  to  his 
disciples.  Else  how  could  his  words  at  the  Last  Sup¬ 
per  have  been  otherwise  than  strange  and  unintelligible 
to  them  ?  The  conception  of  his  person  in  the  synop¬ 
tical  Gospels  is  at  bottom  the  same  as  in  the  fourth. 

them  he  °tands  forth  as  the  supreme  lawgiver,  as  we 
see  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  He  is  distinguished 
from  the  prophets,  and  is  exalted  above  them.  He  is 
at  last  to  judge  the  world.  The  particular  point  that 
is  found  in  John,  in  distinction  from  the  other  Gospels, 
is  the  explicit  doctrine  of  his  pre-existence.  This  doc¬ 
trine,  together  with  that  of  his  relation  to  the  creation, 
has  its  equivalent  in  the  writings  of  the  Apostle  Paul 
(1  Cor.  viii.  6 ;  2  Cor.  viii.  9 ;  Phil.  ii.  6),  ■—  a  circum¬ 
stance,  as  was  remarked  above,  which  tends  strongly 
to  prove  that  it  entered  into  the  testimony  of  Jesus 
respecting  himself,  and  thus  goes  to  corroborate  the 
evidence  of  the  same  fact  afforded  in  John. 

In  the  Christian  literature  of  the  second  century, 
there  is  no  book  which  approaches  in  power  the  fourth 
Gospel.  Every  thing  is  on  a  lower  level.  When  we 


252  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


take  up  the  works  of  the  sub-apostolic  age,  we  are  con¬ 
scious  of  an  abrupt  descent  from  the  high  plane  of  the 
apostolic  writings.  The  apostolic  Fathers  are  marked 
by  a  languor  which  infuses  languor  into  the  reader. 
Even  the  Epistle  of  Polycarp,  although  not  wanting  in 
good  sense  and  good  feeling,  is  not  an  exception.  The 
Epistle  of  Clement  of  Rome,  compared  with  the  New- 
Testament  writers,  is  feeble.  Unless  for  the  purpose  of 
scholarly  investigation,  who  cares  to  peruse  the  allego¬ 
ries  of  Hermas  ?  The  anonymous  Epistle  to  Diognetus, 
which  is  generally  thought  to  be  as  early  as  A.D.  150, 
stands  alone  in  that  era  as  a  really  spirited  compo¬ 
sition.  This  is  a  discourse  or  terse  appeal  addressed 
to  an  individual;  but,  notwithstanding  its  rhetorical 
vigor,  it  cannot  be  compared  for  a  moment  in  religious 
depth  with  the  fourth  Gospel.  The  writings  of  that 
day,  Justin  included,  are  echoes  of  the  inspired  works 
of  the  preceding  age.  How  can  a  book  of  the  transcend¬ 
ent  power  of  this  Gospel  be  referred  to  the  period  of 
decadence  ?  It  has  commanded  the  reverent  sympathy 
of  the  ablest  minds.  It  has  captivated  millions  of 
hearts,  and  has  held  its  throne,  age  after  age,  in  the 
households  of  the  Christian  nations,  amid  all  the  fluc¬ 
tuations  of  culture  and  civilization.  To  think  that  such 
a  writer  —  an  unknown  writer  too  —  sprang  up,  like  a 
flower  of  perennial  beauty,  in  the  barren  waste  of  post- 
apostolic  authorship,  is  to  suppose  an  anachronism. 

Strongly  marked  as  is  the  type  of  doctrine  in  the 
writings  of  John,  its  identity  in  essential  features  with 
the  theology  of  Paul  is  an  impressive  fact.  John 
teaches  that  “  life  ”  begins  here,  in  the  knowledge  of 
God  and  of  his  Son  (John  iii.  36  ;  1  John  v.  12).  Life 
inseparable  from  fellowship  with  Christ  is  the  truth  on 
which  all  stress  is  laid.  Judgment  is  here  :  the  Gospel 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  253 


does  its  own  work  of  separation  by  testing  and  reveal¬ 
ing  the  affinities  of  the  heart ;  yet  the  objective,  atoning 
work  of  Christ  is  not  ignored,  nor  is  the  resurrection 
and  the  final  awards  (John  iii.  14, 15,  v.  28,  29 ;  1  John  i. 
7,  ii.  2).  Paul  connects  the  breaking-down  of  the  wall 
vjf  separation  between  Jew  and  Gentile  with  the  death 
of  Christ  (Gal.  iii.  13,  14).  In  remarkable  harmony 
with  this  conception  are  the  words  of  Jesus  when  it 
was  told  him  (John  xii.  20  seq.)  that  Greeks  who  had 
come  up  to  the  passover  desired  to  see  him.  It  was  a 
sign  to  him  that  his  hour  had  come.  The  corn  of  wheat 
in  order  not  to  “abide  alone,”  but  that  it  might  bear 
fruit,  must  “  fall  into  the  ground,  and  die.” 

If  the  fourth  Gospel  is  a  fiction,  what  account  can 
be  given  of  the  motives  and  aims  of  the  author?  The 
only  theory  on  this  subject  which  is  entitled  to  notice 
is  that  of  Baur.  He  supposes  the  author  to  have  been 
a  Gnostic,  having  a  certain  idea  of  the  Logos,  believ¬ 
ing  in  the  identity  of  the  historic  Jesus  with  the  Logos, 
and  undertaking  to  exhibit  this  identity  in  a  fictitious 
narrative  of  a  symbolic  character.  The  book  is  written, 
then,  with  a  definite  purpose*  The  historic  material, 
which  is  mainly  imaginary,  is  simply  the  vehicle  for 
conveying  the  author’s  speculation  or  intuition  of  the 
divine  Logos.  The  distinction  between  “  light  ”  and 
“darkness,”  it  is  affirmed,  is  an  absolute  metaphysical 
antagonism.  The  principle  of  darkness  is  embodied 
in  the  Jews ;  and  the  development  of  their  unbelief 
is  carried  through  successive  stages  corresponding  to 
the  increasing  manifestation  of  Christ,  or  the  Logos, 
which  provokes  it.  Outward  events,  especially  mira¬ 
cles,  are  merely  a  sensuous  counterpart  of  “  the  idea,” 
—  a  kind  of  staging,  put  up  to  be  pulled  down  again. 
One  aim,  we  are  told,  is  to  exhibit  the  nullity  of  a  faith 


25  4  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


which  rests  on  miracles.  They  are  not  only  a  crutch 
to  be  thrown  away :  they  are  a  crutch  fabricated  by 
fai  cy. 

On  this  theory,  what  notion  shall  we  have  of  the 
mental  state  of  the  author?  We  are  assured  that  he 
is  a  very  earnest  man ;  that  he  identifies  himself  with 
John  in  spirit  and  feeling;  that  he  writes  as  he  feels 
that  John  would  if  he  were  alive.  He  is  immersed  and 
lost  in  a  series  of  imaginative  intuitions  and  pictures 
( Anschauungen  und  Bilder')  of  the  grandest  and  most 
significant  character.  In  the  course  of  his  work  on 
this  Gospel,  Baur  not  unfrequently  intimates  that  the 
author  hardly  distinguished  fiction  from  fact  in  his  own 
mind.  He  lost  himself,  as  it  were,  in  the  symbols  of 
his  own  creation.  The  artistic  product  assumed  the 
character  of  reality,  so  closely  related  was  it  to  the  idea 
which  it  embodied.  Fancy  that  Bunyan  was  so  carried 
out  of  himself  in  his  portraiture  of  the  Pilgrim' s  Prog¬ 
ress,  that  the  outward  narrative  almost  seemed  to  his 
own  mind  to  be  literal  history,  so  fitly  did  it  embody 
the  course  of  feeling  symbolized  in  it.  Something  like 
this  state  of  consciousness  is  attributed  by  Baur  to  the 
author  of  the  fourth  Gospel.  Except  on  some  such 
theory  as  this,  the  work  —  supposing  it  not  to  be  genu¬ 
ine  —  must  be  considered  a  product  of  base  and  vulgar 
imposture. 

Now,  the  whole  scheme  of  Baur  respecting  this  Gos¬ 
pel  is  built  up  on  a  false  assumption  as  to  the  author’s 
point  of  view.  It  is  assumed  that  the  incarnation  is  to 
him  a  circumstance  of  no  account.  It  is  even  assumed, 
on  the  basis  of  erroneous  interpretation,  that  no  real 
incarnation  is  taught  in  the  Gospel,  but  rather  a  Do- 
cetic  junction  of  the  Logos  with  the  man  Jesus  ; 
whereas  it  is  on  the  incarnation  as  a  most  real  and 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  255 


momentous  fact  that  the  writer’s  thoughts  are  fixed. 
He  does  not  spin  the  history  of  Jesus  out  of  the  idea  : 
he  deduces  the  idea  from  the  history.  In  the  forefront 
of  the  book,  as  the  climax  of  the  prologue,  stands  the 
joyous  declaration,  “  The  Word  became  flesh.”  To  help 
out  his  view,  Baur  makes  verses  9-14  of  the  first  chap¬ 
ter  refer  to  the  pre-existent  Word.  But  they  plainly 
relute  to  the  Word  incarnate.  Baur’s  interpretation 
is  an  example  of  the  artificial  exegesis  —  of  which  far 
more  signal  specimens  might  be  adduced — by  which 
alone  his  thesis  can  be  sustained.  Not  that  he  is  in¬ 
sincere,  or  lacking  in  ingenuitjn  His  treatise  on  this 
Gospel  is  in  many  respects  a  work  of  great  ability,  but 
it  is  a  remarkable  illustration  of  the  power  of  a  precon¬ 
ceived  theory  to  pervert  the  judgment  of  a  skilful  in¬ 
terpreter.  What  candid  reader  of  the  Gospel  can  fail 
to  perceive  that  it  is  the  historic  Jesus,  as  he  had  actu¬ 
ally  lived,  taught,  consorted  with  his  disciples,  hung 
upon  the  cross,  and  risen  from  the  tomb,  in  whom  the 
author’s  interest  centres  ?  Here  all  his  beliefs  respect¬ 
ing  Christ  take  their  rise. 

That  the  apostle  teaches  dualism  is  a  groundless  alle¬ 
gation.  The  contrast  between  light  and  darkness  is 
represented  as  moral,  as  having  its  roots  in  the  will 
(John  iii.  19-21 ;  cf.  viii.  47  with  viii.  84,  and  xii.  85, 
86,  with  xii.  43).  Where  is  there  room  for  dualism 
when  “ all  things  were  made  by”  the  Word?  (John 
i.  3.)  How  can  the  Jews  be  thought  of,  as,  metaphysi¬ 
cally  speaking,  of  the  realm  of  darkness,  when  it  is  said 
of  Christ  in  relation  to  them  that  “he  came  unto  his 
own  ”  ? 

It  is  manifest  that  John  has  a  certain  conception  of 
Jesus,  and  announces  it  at  the  outset  of  his  narrative. 
The  same  is  true  of  Matthew,  who  will  show,  partly  by 


256  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIO  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


a  comparison  of  facts  with  prophecy,  that  Jesus  is  the 
Messiah.  The  only  question  is,  Whence  was  that  con¬ 
ception  derived?  Was  it  excogitated  in  the  writer's 
own  brain  ?  Was  it  a  dogma  acquired  by  speculation  ? 
Or  did  it  arise  from  the  impression  made  on  the  mind 
of  the  writer  by  Jesus  himself  and  by  his  testimony 
respecting  his  relation  to  God  ?  A  man,  let  it  be  sup* 
posed,  proposes  to  depict  the  life  of  Washington.  He 
may  have  an  enthusiastic  conviction  that  his  hero  was 
the  noblest  of  patriots.  He  may  so  express  himself  at 
the  beginning  of  his  book.  But  if  he  derived  his  per¬ 
suasion  from  what  he  saw  and  knew  of  Washington’s 
career,  and  if  he  sustains  his  view  by  presenting  a  rec¬ 
ord  of  facts  within  the  limits  of  his  personal  knowledge, 
surely  his  procedure  is  legitimate.  The  credibility  of 
his  narrative  is  not  in  the  least  diminished.  Is  it  a  con¬ 
dition  of  trustworthiness  that  a  historian  should  be  an 
uninterested  chronicler?  The  main  thread  in  John’s 
narrative  is  one  that  belongs  to  the  facts  as  they  oc¬ 
curred.  Did  not  the  unbelief  and  malignity  of  the  Jews 
actually  grow,  as  Jesus  more  and  more  revealed  him¬ 
self  to  them,  and  disclosed  the  nature  of  his  kingdom  ? 
Why,  then,  should  not  John,  casting  his  eye  back  on 
the  course  of  events,  see  them  in  their  real  nexus,  and 
shape  his  narrative  accordingly  ? 

If  it  could  be  made  to  appear  that  the  various  parts 
of  the  narrative  are  artificial,  or  contrary  to  probability, 
the  conclusion  of  Baur  might  be  warranted.  But  the 
interpretations  by  which  this  is  sought  to  be  done  are 
themselves  artificial,  and  forced  upon  the  text.  What, 
for  example,  can  be  more  groundless  than  the  assertion 
made  by  so  many  critics,  from  Baur  to  Keim,  that,  ac¬ 
cording  to  this  Gospel,  Jesus  was  not  baptized?  What 
fair-minded  reader,  with  John  i.  32,  33,  before  him. 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  257 


would  ever  have  attributed  such  an  intent  to  the  evan¬ 
gelist?  How,  it  might  be  added,  could  the  author, 
whoever  he  was,  expect  to  dislodge  from  the  belief  of 
Christians  a  fact  like  this,  ingrained  as  it  was  in  the 
Gospel  tradition  ?  If  he  were  foolish  enough  to  under¬ 
take  such  a  feat,  how  could  he  hope  to  effect  his  end  by 
merely  omitting  expressly  to  record  the  circumstance  ? 
It  is  one  of  the  fancies  of  the  Tubingen  critics  that 
Nicodemus  is  invented  as  a  type  of  unbelieving,  sign¬ 
seeking  Judaism.  Why,  then,  should  he  be  depicted  as 
attaining  more  and  more  faith  ?  (iii.  2,  vii.  50,  xix.  39.) 
The  Samaritan  woman,  on  the  contrary,  is  said  to  be  a 
type  of  the  believing  heathen.  Why  was  not  an  actual 
heathen  chosen  to  figure  in  this  character,  rather  than  a 
Samaritan  who  believed  in  Moses,  and  was  looking  for 
the  Messiah?  But  into  the  details  of  exegesis  it  is 
impracticable  here  to  enter.1 

It  is  a  strange  error  into  which  the  critics  fall  who 
have  said  that  the  author  of  this  Gospel  attaches  no 
value  to  miracles,  setting  them  up,  so  to  speak,  merely 
to  bowl  them  down.  It  is  true,  that,  as  he  looks  back 
upon  the  Saviour’s  life,  every  thing  in  it  is  seen  to  be 
a  manifestation  of  the  glory  that  was  veiled  in  the  ser¬ 
vant’s  form.  The  nature  of  the  only-begotten  Son  shone 
out  in  supernatural  exertions  of  power  and  mercy. 
That  which  is  censured  in  the  Gospel  is  the  disposition 
to  rest  in  the  miracles  as  bare  facts  which  minister  to 
wonder,  or  supply  some  lower  want,  instead  of  catching 
their  suggestion.  Unbelief,  even  when  not  denying 
that  they  were  wrought,  failed  to  look  through  them. 


1  For  a  particular  examination  of  Baur’s  exegesis  of  the  Gospel,  sea 
Beyschlag  ( ut  supra),  also  Bruckner’s  notes  to  De  Wette’s  Kurze  Erkl. 
d.  Evang.  Johann.,  and  The  Supernatural  Origin  of  Christianity  (3d  ed.) 
p.  132  seq. 


&)8  THE  GROUNDS  OP  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


They  were  a  language  the  deep  import  of  which  was 
not  comprehended.  They  were  opaque  facts.  Hence 
the  Jews  called  for  more  and  more.  They  clamored 
for  something  more  stupendous,  —  for  a  “  sign  from 
heaven.” 

This  is  the  view  of  miracles  which  is  found  in  the 
fourth  Gospel.  There  is  not  the  remotest  suggestion 
that  they  are  not  actual  occurrences.  The  narrator 
does  not  stultify  himself  in  this  manner.  In  every  in¬ 
stance  where  Baur  appeals  to  exegesis  in  support  of 
his  view  of  the  evangelist’s  intent  in  this  matter,  he  is 
obliged  to  do  violence  to  the  passage  in  hand.  For 
example,  when  Jesus  said,  “Blessed  are  they  that  have 
not  seen,  and  yet  have  believed,”  there  is,  to  be  sure,  a 
reference  to  the  reluctance  of  Thomas  to  believe  with' 
out  seeing ;  but  to  believe  what  ?  Why,  the  miracle  of 
the  resurrection  to  which  the  other  apostles  had  testified. 
This  was  the  object  of  faith.  It  is  not  on  faith  inde¬ 
pendent  of  miracles,  but  on  faith  independent  of  the 
ocular  perception  of  miracles,  that  Jesus  pronounces 
his  blessing. 

Scattered  over  the  pages  of  the  fourth  Gospel  are 
numerous  indirect  proofs  that  the  author  draws  his 
material  from  personal  recollection.  Only  a  few  illus¬ 
trations  can  be  here  presented.  “And  it  was  at  Jeru 
salem  the  feast  of  the  dedication,  and  it  was  winter. 
And  Jesus  walked  in  the  temple  in  Solomon’s  porch  ” 
(John  x.  22,  28).  Why  should  it  be  mentioned  that 
Jesus  was  in  this  porch?  Nothing  in  the  teaching 
recorded  in  the  context  called  for  it.  How  can  it  be 
accounted  for,  except  on  the  supposition  that  the  scene 
was  printed  on  the  author’s  memory  ?  Stating  this  fact, 
he  must  needs  explain  to  heathen  readers  why  Jesus 
walked  in  this  sheltered  place.  “  It  was  winter :  ”  the 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  259 


festival  occurred  in  December.  A  similar  instance  of 
obvious  recollection  is  John  viii.  20.  The  iron  boxes 
constituting  the  “  treasury  ”  the  author  had  seen.  The 
image  of  Jesus  as  he  stood  near  them  was  present  in 
his  recollection.  Why  should  he  refer  to  “  ..Enon,” 
where  John  was  baptizing,  as  “  near  to  Salim  ?  ”  (iii.  28.) 
Why  should  he  describe  the  pool  at  Jerusalem  as  being 
by  the  sheep-gate,  as  called  in  Hebrew  “Bethesda,” 
as  having  five  porches?  (v.  2.)  Why  should  he  inter¬ 
rupt  his  narrative  (viii.  1)  with  the  statement  that 
“  Jesus  went  unto  the  Mount  of  Olives,  and  early  in  the 
morning  he  came  again  into  the  temple,”  a  bare  chrono¬ 
logical  fact  with  nothing  to  hang  upon  it?  What  else 
can  it  be  but  an  accurate  reminiscence  ?  Other  chrono¬ 
logical  statements,  extending  not  only  to  the  day,  but 
to  the  hour,  are  frequent.  They  come  in,  not  as  if  they 
had  been  sought,  but  as  a  component  part  of  the  au¬ 
thor’s  recollection  (ii.  12).  For  what  reason  is  Philip 
designated  (xii.  21)  as  “of  Bethsaida  of  Galilee,”  the 
incident  here  recorded  not  requiring  any  such  particu¬ 
larity  of  description  ?  What  reason  is  there  for  adding, 
to  the  statement  that  Pilate  sat  down  in  his  judgment- 
seat,  that  the  place  “  is  called  the  Pavement,  but  in  the 
Hebrew,  Gabbatha  ”  ?  What  can  this  be  but  an  instance 
of  precise  description  such  as  is  natural  in  referring  to 
a  spot  where  one  has  witnessed  a  memorable  event  ? 

If  the  fourth  Gospel  was  not  written  by  John,  it  is 
the  product  of  pious  fraud.  Among  the  Jews,  in  the 
later  period  of  their  history,  prior  to  the  time  of  Jesus, 
many  pseudonymous  works  were  composed.  This  took 
place  chiefly  among  the  Alexandrians,  but  was  not  con¬ 
fined  to  them.  Conscious  that  the  age  of  inspiration 
had  gone  by,  authors  felt  prompted  to  set  forth,  under 
the  uame  of  Enoch  Solomon,  or  some  other  worthy, 


260  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

the  lessons  which  they  thought  suited  to  the  time. 
They  aspired  to  enter  into  the  mind,  and  speak  in  the 
spirit,  of  the  prophet  or  sage  whom  they  personated. 
In  this  literary  device  there  was  often  no  deliberate 
purpose  to  deceive.  It  early  led,  however,  to  inten¬ 
tional  fraud.  This  practice  passed  over  into  certain 
Christian  circles  where  Judaic  and  Judaizing  influences 
prevailed.  The  distinction  between  esoteric  and  exo¬ 
teric  doctrine,  which  may  be  traced  to  the  Alexandrian 
philosophy,  availed  as  a  partial  excuse  for  it.  Writ¬ 
ings  were  fabricated  like  the  Sibylline  Oracles  and  the 
Pseudo-Clementine  Homilies.  But  pious  frauds  of  this 
nature,  as  every  one  feels,  are  repugnant  to  the  sense  of 
truth  which  Christianity  demands  and  fosters.  Chris¬ 
tianity  brought  in  a  purer  standard.  In  the  ancient 
church,  as  now,  books  of  this  sort  were  earnestly  con¬ 
demned  by  enlightened  Christians.  Tertullian  informs 
us,  that  the  presbyter  who  was  convicted  of  writing, 
in  the  name  of  Paul,  the  Acta  Pauli  et  Theclce ,  confessed 
his  offence,  and  was  deposed  from  his  office.1  This 
incident  shows  what  must  have  been  the  feeling  enter¬ 
tained  by  Christians  generally  in  regard  to  this  species 
of  benevolent  imposture.  The  reader  can  judge  for 
himself  as  to  the  moral  tone  of  the  Gospel  and  Epistle 
which  we  are  considering.  Did  the  author,  as  regards 
sound  ethical  feeling,  stand  on  the  low  plane  of  the 
manufacturers  of  spurious  books?  Would  such  a  man 
fabricate,  in  the  name  of  an  apostle,  a  fictitious  history 
cf  the  Lord?  Such  a  work,  let  it  be  noticed,  is  of 
an  utterly  diverse  character  from  a  merely  didactic 
writing.  Doubts  have  been  entertained,  both  in 
ancient  and  modern  times,  of  the  genuineness  of  the 
second  Epistle  of  Peter.  But  if  we  can  conceive  of  a 

1  De  Baptismo,  15. 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  261 


Well-meaning  Christian,  with  a  conscience  imperfectly 
trained,  undertaking  to  compose  a  homily  under  the 
name  of  an  apostle,  it  is  still  something  utterly  different 
from  the  attempt  to  traverse  the  ground,  which  to  him 
must  have  been  sacred  ground,  that  was  already  covered 
by  the  authentic  Gospels.  The  irreverence,  the  auda¬ 
city,  of  such  a  procedure,  far  outstrips  any  examples 
furnished  by  the  Gospels  known  to  be  apocryphal, 
which  mainly  confine  themselves  to  the  infancy  of 
Jesus,  and  to  the  Virgin  Mary.  Baur,  in  defending 
his  position,  actually  compares  the  author  of  this  Gospel 
to  the  Apostle  Paul.  Paul,  he  reminds  us,  was  not  one 
of  the  twelve.  Why  should  there  not  be  still  another 
apostle?  Think  of  the  Apostle  Paul  sitting  down  to 
invent  a  fictitious  history  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ! 
And  yet  the  author  of  the  fourth  Gospel  is  put  by 
Baur  on  a  level,  as  regards  moral  and  spiritual  worth, 
with  the  Apostle  Paul. 

Those  who  deny  that  John  wrote  the  fourth  Gospel 
hold  that  its  author  was  a  man  of  genius.  The  power 
exerted  by  his  writing,  in  his  own  time  and  subse¬ 
quently,  is  of  itself  a  sufficient  proof  of  his  surpassing 
ability.  Who  was  this  anonymous  leader  of  opinion? 
Why  should  a  man  of  this  exalted  capacity  wish  to 
wear  a  mask?  Why  not,  like  others,  propagate  his 
ideas  in  the  light  of  day  and  in  the  open  field  ?  How 
did  he  succeed  in  hiding  himself  in  obscurity  ?  Why 
have  we  no  other  great  works  from  his  pen  ?  Why  does 
not  his  name  figure  among  the  noted  religious  leaders 
of  his  time  ? 

There  are  some  other  traits  of  the  fourth  Gospel 
which  are  adapted  to  impress  the  candid  reader  with 
the  conviction  that  it  is  the  Apostle  John  who  wTrites 

it. 


262  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


1.  The  peculiar  mode  in  which  the  authorship  is  in* 
dicated.  There  is  one  prominent  disciple  whose  name 
is  not  given.  He  is  referred  to  by  a  circumlocution. 
At  the  Last  Supper  there  leaned  on  the  bosom  of  Jesus 
“one  of  his  disciples  whom  Jesus  loved”  (xiii.  23). 
To  him,  described  in  the  same  terms,  Jesus  commits 
his  mother  (xix.  26).  He  accompanies  Peter  to  the 
tomb  of  Jesus— -“the  other  disciple  whom  Jesus 
lo  ved  ”  (xx.  2).  Once  more  (xxi.  7)  he  is  designated 
in  the  same  way.  He  it  is  who  is  spoken  of  as  “  an¬ 
other  disciple,”  and  “  that  other  disciple  ”  (xviii.  15, 
16,  compare  xx.  2,  3,  4,  8).  Nor  will  it  be  doubted 
that  he  is  the  “  one  of  the  two  ”  whose  name  is  not 
given  (i.  40),  the  associate  of  Andrew.  In  the  appen¬ 
dix  to  the  Gospel  (xxi.  24,  compare  ver.  20),  he  is 
declared  to  be  its  author.  As  might  be  expected  from 
the  passages  just  quoted,  he  refers  to  himself  in  the 
third  person  when  asserting  that  he  had  witnessed  a 
particular  occurrence  (xix.  35).  That  he  was  one  of 
those  personally  conversant  with  Jesus  is  left  to  be 
inferred  from  his  use  of  the  first  person  plural  of  the 
pronoun  (John  i.  14;  1  John  i.  2,  3) :  “We  beheld  his 
glory,”  etc.  It  is  not  denied  by  Baur,  nor  is  there  any 
reason  to  doubt,  that  the  author  of  the  Gospel  intends 
his  readers  to  believe  him  to  be  the  Apostle  John. 
Now,  if  it  is  the  apostle .  himself,  who,  from  a  certain 
delicacy  of  feeling,  prefers  to  veil  himself,  as  it  were, 
instead  of  referring  to  himself  by  name,  this  peculiar 
manner  of  indicating  the  authorship  of  the  book  is 
easily  and  naturally  explained.  If  it  be  not  John,  what 
is  the  alternative?  It  is  not  simply  that  we  must 
infer  that  deceit  is  intended,  but  it  is  deceit  of  a  very 
different  sort  from  that  which  has  been  referred  to  as 
belonging  to  pseudonymous  writings.  There  is  adroit 


APOSTOLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  263 


painstaking :  there  is,  as  W eiss  observes,  an  abandon¬ 
ment  of  the  naivete  which  belongs  to  the  authors  of 
those  books,  and  which  is  the  sole  apology  that  can  be 
pleaded  in  behalf  of  them.  They  do  not  go  to  work  in 
this  sly  way.  They  do  not  seek  to  decoy  the  reader 
into  ascribing  the  book  to  the  pretended  author.  They 
assume  his  name  without  hesitation.  On  the  contrary, 
if  the  fourth  Gospel  was  not  written  by  John,  we  have 
an  artful  imposition,  carried  from  beginning  to  end  of 
the  book.  We  have  a  product  of  sheer  knavery.  The 
forger  not  only  assumes  to  be  John,  but,  in  order  to 
accomplish  his  end,  affects  modesty.  He  puts  himself 
side  by  side  with  Peter,  leans  on  the  breast  of  Jesus, 
goes  to  the  sepulchre,  stands  before  the  cross,  there  to 
have  the  mother  of  the  Lord  committed  to  his  charge, 
but,  in  order  to  impose  on  his  readers  more  effectually, 
takes  pains  to  avoid  writing  the  name  of  John,  —  except 
when  he  speaks  of  the  Baptist,  whose  usual  title  he 
suppresses  —  doing  thus  from  cunning  what  John  the 
Apostle,  being  of  the  same  name,  and  his  disciple,  would 
have  done  naturally. 

2.  The  author  (if  he  be  not  John)  is  guilty  of  direct 
falsehood,  amounting  almost  to  perjury.  He  asserts 
that  he  saw  water  and  blood  issue  from  the  side  of 
Jesus  as  he  hung  on  the  cross  (xix.  34).  Baur  cor¬ 
rectly  interprets  the  writer  as  speaking  of  himself.  He 
would  resolve  this  alleged  direct  perception  of  material 
objects  into  a  kind  of  spiritual  discernment,  —  an  intui¬ 
tion  of  spiritual  effects  to  follow  the  death  of  Jesus. 
What  is  this  but  to  trifle  with  historical  statements? 
What  is  it  but  to  confound  sober  prose  with  a  poesy 
which  hardly  consists  with  a  sane  mind  ?  If  the  author 
of  the  Gospel  did  not  see  what  he  so  solemnly  assev¬ 
erates  that  he  did  see,  his  misstatement  is  due  to  some* 


264  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 


thing  worse  than  the  mysterious  agency  called  by  the 
critic  “  die  Macht  der  Idee.” 

3.  The  Gospel  is,  in  a  sense,  an  autobiography.  It  is 
a  record  of  the  origin  and  development  of  the  author’s 
faith  in  Jesus  as  the  divine  Son  of  God.  It  is  the 
grounds  of  his  own  faith  which  he  professes  to  set 
forth ;  and  his  purpose  is  to  bring  others  to  the  same 
faith,  or  to  establish  them  in  it.  Why  not  recount  the 
very  facts  which  had  planted  this  deep  persuasion  in 
his  own  heart?  Why  resort  to  fictions?  Were  not 
the  words  and  works  of  Christ,  which  had  actually 
evoked  faith  in  his  own  soul,  sufficient  for  others  ? 

4.  The  personal  love  of  the  author  of  the  Gospel  to 
Jesus  is  inconsistent  with  the  supposition  that  it  is  a 
spurious  work.  It  is  evident,  from  the  whole  tone  of 
the  composition,  that  he  regards  Jesus  with  a  warm  per¬ 
sonal  affection.  Whom  does  he  love  ?  Is  it  an  unreal 
person,  called  into  being  by  imagination  ?  The  person 
whom  he  loves  is  the  historic  Jesus.  Of  him  he  says, 
“  Which  we  have  seen  with  our  eyes,  which  we  have 
looked  upon,  and  our  hands  have  handled”  (1  John 
i.  1).  He  is  conscious,  with  a  mingled  humility  and 
joy,  that  he  had  been  specially  an  object  of  the  love 
of  Jesus,  —  “the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved.”  With 
Jesus  he  is  consciously  united  by  the  closest  personal 
tie.  Shall  we  say  that  the  author  imagined  a  charac¬ 
ter,  and  then,  conceiving  of  him  as  an  actual  person 
who  had  said  and  done  what  imagination  had  ascribed 
to  him,  gives  to  this  product  of  fancy  his  heart’s  deep 
est  love  ?  This  is  to  impute  to  the  author  insanity. 

5.  The  tender  simplicity  which  marks  so  many  pas¬ 
sages  of  the  narrative  stamps  them  with  the  seal  of 
truth.  The  record  of  the  tears  of  Jesus  on  witnessing 
the  sorrow  of  Mary  and  her  friends ;  the  saying,  that  as 


OLIC  AUTHORSHIP  OF  THE  FOURTH  GOSPEL.  265 

death  approached,  having  loved  his  disci^  les,  “  he  loved 
them  to  the  end ;  ”  the  pathetic  words,  “  Behold  thy 
mother,”  “Behold  thy  son,”  which  were  spoken  from 
the  cross  —  to  think  of  these  as  the  inventions  of  a  theo¬ 
logical  speculatist  who  is  bent  on  writing  up  or  writing 
down  a  person  or  theory  is  an  unnatural  and  offensive 
supposition. 

To  complete  this  discussion,  it  is  necessary  to  notice 
a  middle  theory  which  has  found  favor  with  some  re¬ 
cent  writers ;  namely,  that  disciples  of  John  composed 
the  Gospel  on  the  basis  of  oral  instruction  which  they 
had  received  from  him.  Mr.  Matthew  Arnold  has  con¬ 
jectured  that  the  Ephesian  presbyters,  partly  on  the 
foundation  of  materials  furnished  by  the  apostle,  are 
the  authors  of  the  book.1  Clement  of  Alexandria,  as 
it  was  said  above,  reports  the  tradition  that  John  wrote 
at  the  urgent  request  of  familiar  friends.  The  Mura- 
torian  fragment  makes  a  like  statement,  with  the  addi 
tional  circumstance  of  a  revelation  to  Andrew,  to  the 
effect  that  John  “should  write  down  every  thing,  and 
all  should  certify.”  2  There  is  no  patristic  support  for 
the  hypothesis  just  explained.  But  what  compels  its 
rejection  is  the  testimony,  respecting  the  authorship  of 
the  book,  which  the  writer  himself  gives  in  the  peculiar, 
indirect  form  which  has  been  adverted  to.  He  is 
brought  before  his  readers  in  such  a  manner  that  the 
necessary  alternative  of  denying  his  personal  author¬ 
ship  is  the  supposition  of  intentional  deceit. 

1  God  and  the  Bible,  p.  248. 

2  Mr.  Arnold  renders  the  word  recognoscentibus  “revise.”  This  Is  a 
possible,  but  not  the  usual  meaning  of  the  word.  It  signifies  “  to  in* 
spect,”  “to  examine”  with  a  view  to  approval,  hence  “to  indorse” 
or  “  authenticate.”  This  appears  to  be  its  meaning  in  the  document  r© 
Cerred  to. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE  TRUSTWORTHINESS  OF  THE  APOSTLES’  TESTIMONY 
AS  PRESENTED  BY  THE  EVANGELISTS. 

In  the  last  two  chapters,  evidence  has  been  brought 
forward  to  prove  that  the  Gospels  were  written  by  apos¬ 
tles  and  companions  of  apostles ;  in  particular,  that  the 
fourth  Gospel  is  the  work  of  John ;  that  the  first  Gos¬ 
pel,  at  least  in  its  original  form,  and  as  to  the  main  por¬ 
tion  of  its  contents,  had  Matthew  for  its  author,  and 
that  it  existed  in  the  Greek,  and  in  its  present  compass, 
while  the  generation  of  the  first  disciples  of  Jesus,  by 
whom  it  was  acknowledged,  was  still  in  being ;  that  the 
second  and  third  Gospels  were  composed  by  contem¬ 
poraries  who  brought  together  the  information  which 
they  had  sought  and  obtained  from  apostles,  and  from 
others  who  were  immediately  cognizant  of  the  facts. 
The  Gospels  thus  meet  one  test  of  trustworthy  histori¬ 
cal  evidence,  —  that  it  shall  come  from  witnesses  or 
well-informed  contemporaries.  They  present  the  testi¬ 
mony  which  the  apostles  gave  to  their  converts  respect¬ 
ing  the  words  and  actions  of  Jesus.  We  have  to  show 
that  this  testimony  is  entitled  to  credit.  Let  it  be 
understood  that  in  this  place  we  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  theological  doctrine  of  inspiration,  or  with 
the  nature  and  limits  of  the  divine  help  afforded  to  the 
historical  writers  of  the  New  Testament  in  the  compo¬ 
sition  of  their  books.  That  subject  is  irrelevant  to  the 

present  discussion.  What  we  have  to  establish  is  the 
266 


rRUST WORTHINESS  OF  THE  APOSTLES’  TESTIMONY.  267 


essential  credibility  of  the  evangelists ;  in  other  words, 
to  show  that  the  narrative  which  they  give  of  the  life 
of  Jesus  may  be  relied  on  as  fully  as  we  rely  on  the 
biographies  of  other  eminent  personages  in  the  past 
which  are  known  to  have  been  composed  by  honest, 
and,  in  other  respects,  competent  historians. 

1.  The  fact  of  the  selection  of  the  apostles,  and  the 
view  deliberately  taken  both  by  Jesus  and  by  them¬ 
selves  of  their  function,  are  a  strong  argument  for  their 
credibility. 

In  inquiring  whether  the  Gospel  history  is  true  or 
not,  it  is,  first  of  all,  important  to  ascertain  what  view 
Jesus  took  of  the  life  he  was  leading  among  men,  and 
also  to  observe  in  what  light  his  career  was  regarded 
by  his  followers.  Had  his  teaching,  and  the  events  oc¬ 
curring  in  connection  with  his  life,  such  a  significance 
in  his  own  eyes,  that  he  meant  them  to  be  the  subject 
of  testimony?  Did  he  design  that  they  should  be  re¬ 
membered,  and  be  faithfully  narrated  to  those  beyond 
the  circle  of  immediate  observers?  In  other  words, 
had  he,  and  his  followers  with  him,  an  “  historical  feel¬ 
ing”  as  regards  the  momentous  occurrences,  as  they 
proved  to  be,  belonging  to  his  career  ?  This  question  is 
conclusively  answered  by  the  fact  of  a  deliberate  selec¬ 
tion  by  him  of  a  body  of  persons  to  be  with  him,  who 
were  deputed  to  relate  what  they  saw  and  heard,  aud 
who  distinctly  understood  this  to  be  an  essential  part 
of  their  business.  They  were  called  “  The  Twelve ;  ” 
and  so  current  was  this  appellation  at  an  early  day, 
that  Paul  thus  designates  them  even  in  referring  to  the 
time  when  Judas  had  fallen  out  of  their  number  (1 
Cor.  xv.  5).  The  idea  which  they  had  of  their  office 
was  explicitly  pointed  out  by  Peter  when  he  stated  the 
qualifications  of  the  one  who  shou'd  be  chosen  in  place 


268  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF, 

of  Judas  (Acts  i.  21-25).  It  may  be  remarked,  before 
quoting  the  passage,  that,  if  there  were  any  just  ground 
for  suspecting  the  accuracy  of  Luke  in  general,  it  could 
have  no  application  in  this  place.  There  is  no  rcom 
for  the  bias  of  a  Pauline  disciple,  since  the  transaction 
is  one  in  which  it  is  Peter  who  appears  as  the  leader ; 
and  the  thing  proposed  is  the  completion  of  the  num¬ 
ber  of  “the  twelve.”  The  passage  reads  as  follows: 
“  Wherefore  of  these  men  which  have  companied  with 
us  ”  —  that  is,  travelled  about  with  us  —  “  all  the  time 
that  the  Lord  Jesus  went  in  and  out  among  us,”  — 
that  is,  was  in  constant  intercourse  with  us,  —  “  begin¬ 
ning  from  the  baptism  of  John  unto  that  same  day 
that  he  was  taken  up  from  us,  must  one  be  ordained  to 
be  a  witness  with  us  of  his  resurrection.”  The  resur¬ 
rection  is  particularly  mentioned  as  the  fact  most  prom¬ 
inent  in  the  apostle’s  testimony.  Here  is  a  deliberate 
consciousness  on  the  part  of  Peter,  that  he  and  his  fel¬ 
low-apostles  were  clothed  with  the  responsibility  of 
witnesses,  and  that,  to  be  of  their  number,  one  must 
have  the  necessary  qualification  of  a  credible  witness,  — 
a  personal  knowledge  of  that  about  which  he  is  to  tes¬ 
tify.  “We  are  witnesses,”  said  Peter,  on  a  subsequent 
occasion,  “  of  all  things  which  he  did  both  in  the  land 
of  the  Jews  and  in  Jerusalem”  (Acts  x.  39).1  Their 
commission  was  to  “teach  all  nations,”  and  to  teach 
them  the  commandments  of  Jesus  (Matt,  xxviii.  20). 
His  teaching  was  to  be  brought  to  their  remembrance 
(John  xiv.  26).  They  were  forewarned  that  they 
would  be  arraigned  before  magistrates,  to  give  reasons 
for  their  adherence  to  him  (Matt.  x.  18 ;  Luke  xxi.  12). 
The  promise  of  the  Spirit  is  given  in  a  form  to  exalt, 
and  not  to  diminish,  the  importance  of  the  historical 

1  Cf.  Luke  xxiv.  47-49  ;  Acts  i.  8. 


TRUSTWORTHINESS  OF  THE  APOSTLES’  TESTIMONY.  269 


facts  of  the  life  and  teaching  of  Jesus  (John  xiv.  15 
seq.,  25,  26,  xv.  24-2T,  xvi.  14;  Luke  xxi.  14,  15). 
The  Apostle  John  speaks  of  himself  as  an  eye-witness 
(John  i.  14,  xix.  35,  cf.  xxi.  24).  Luke,  at  the  begin¬ 
ning  of  his  Gospel,  refers  to  his  having  consulted,  with 
painstaking,  those  who  had  heard  and  witnessed  the 
things  to  be  recorded  by  him  (Luke  i.  1-5).  His  ob¬ 
ject  in  writing  is  to  satisfy  Theophilus  that  his  Chris¬ 
tian  belief  rested  on  a  good  foundation  of  evidence. 
It  is  plain  that  the  apostles  and  evangelists  are  dis¬ 
tinctly  conscious  of  their  position.1  They  are  aware 
that  they  have  to  fulfil  the  duty  of  witnesses.  There 
is  this  barrier  against  fancy  and  delusion.  It  is  a  great 
point  in  favor  of  their  credibility. 

2.  The  apostles  never  ceased  to  be  conscious  that 
they  were  disciples.  They  never  ceased  to  look  back 
upon  the  words  and  actions  of  Christ  with  the  pro- 
foundest  interest,  and  to  regard  them  as  a  sacred 
treasure  left  in  their  hands  to  be  communicated  to  an 
ever-widening  circle.  In  that  life,  as  it  had  actually 
passed  before  their  eyes,  they  placed  the  foundation  of 
all  their  hope  and  of  the  hope  of  the  world.  There  is 
not  the  least  sign  that  any  enthusiasm  which  they  felt 
in  their  work  ever  carried  them  away  from  this  histor¬ 
ical  anchorage.  They  received  the  precious  legacy 
which  it  devolved  on  them  to  convey  to  others,  in  a 
spirit  of  sobriety  and  conscientiousness,  and  with  such 
a  sense  of  its  value  and  sacredness,  that  they  were  cut 
off  from  the  temptation  to  add  to  it  or  subtract  from  it. 
They  were  as  far  as  possible  from  regarding  what  they 
had  received  as  a  mere  starting-point  for  musings  and 
speculations  of  their  own.  They  were  not  “  many  mas¬ 
ters,”  but  continued  to  hold  the  reverent,  dependent 
position  of  pupils. 

1  See  also  Paul,  1  Cor.  xv.  3-9, 14, 15. 


270  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


3.  The  apostles  relate,  without  the  least  attempt  at 
apology  or  concealment,  instances  of  ignorance  and 
weakness  on  their  part,  together  with  the  reproofs  on 
this  account  which  they  received  from  the  Master. 

This  proves  their  honesty ;  but,  more  than  that,  it 
illustrates  the  objective  character  of  their  testimony. 
That  they  were  taken  up  by  the  matter  itself,  so  that 
all  personal  considerations  sunk  out  of  sight,  is  the 
main  fact  which  we  are  now  endeavoring  to  illustrate. 
So  absorbing  is  their  interest  in  what  actually  occurred, 
that  they  do  not  heed  its  effect  on  their  own  reputation. 
They  do  not  think  of  themselves.  They  narrate  what 
exhibits  them  in  an  unfavorable  light  with  as  much  art¬ 
less  simplicity  as  if  they  were  not  personally  affected  by 
it.  When  Jesus  taught  them  that  no  defilement  could 
be  contracted  by  eating  one  rather  than  another  kind  of 
food,  at  which  the  Pharisees  were  offended,  Peter  asked 
him  to  explain  “  the  parable,”  or  obscure  saying.  They 
tell  us  (Matt.  xv.  16 ;  Mark  vii.  18)  that  Jesus  answered, 
“  Are  ye  also  yet  without  understanding  ?  ”  He  ex¬ 
pressed,  they  say,  astonishment  and  regret  that  even 
they  could  not  discern  his  meaning.  When  told  to 
beware  of  “  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees,” 
they  obtusely  surmised  that  the  injunction  had  refer¬ 
ence  to  a  possible  deficiency  of  bread.  They  report  the 
severe  reproach,  which  this  called  forth,  of  a  littleness 
of  faith,  a  failure  to  remember  the  miracle  of  the  loaves 
(Matt.  xvi.  8 ;  Mark  viii.  17-21). 1  They  tell  us  how 
they  confessed  their  own  weakness  of  faith  (Luke  xvii. 
5).  Repeatedly  they  state  that  they  did  not  compre- 

1  The  strong  expression  of  grief  and  weariness,  “  O  faithless  and 
perverse  generation  I  ”  etc.  (Matt.  xvii.  17),  is  omitted  above,  for  the 
reason  that  the  parallel  (Mark  ix.  19)  makes  it,  perhaps,  doubtful 
whether  the  disciples  were  included  among  those  addressed  in  tho 
apostrophe.  Matt.  xvii.  20  would  suggest  that  they  were. 


TRUSTWORTHINESS  OF  THE  APOSTLES’  TESTIMONY.  271 

fiend  or  take  in  tlie  predictions  of  his  suffering  death, 
which  were  addressed  to  them  by  Jesus.  They  repre¬ 
sent  themselves  to  have  clung  so  tenaciously  to  the 
idea  of  a  political  Messiah,  that  after  the  death  of  Jesus 
they  expressed  their  disappointment  in  the  Tvords,  “We 
trusted  that  it  should  have  been  he  which  should  have 
redeemed  Israel.”  And,  even  after  the  resurrection, 
they  anxiously  inquired  of  him,  “  Wilt  thou  at  this 
time  restore  again  the  kingdom  to  Israel?”  This  false 
conception  of  the  Messiah’s  work  led  to  expressions 
on  theii  part  which  deeply  wounded  Jesus.  These  are 
faithfully  reported  by  them.  They  inform  us  (Matt, 
xvi.  23 ;  cf.  Mark  viii.  33 ;  Luke  iv.  8)  that  Peter’s 
protest  against  the  suggestion  that  Jesus  was  to  suffer 
death  elicited  from  him  such  a  rebuke  as  nothing  but 
the  feeling  that  he  was  tempted  to  sin  by  a  friend  by 
whom  he  ought  rather  to  be  supported  on  the  hard 
path  of  duty,  could  evoke :  “  Get  thee  behind  me,  Sa¬ 
tan,”  —  adversary  of  the  will  of  God,  tempter,  —  “  for 
thou  art  an  offence”  —  a  stumbling-block  —  “  unto  me  ; 
for  thou  savorest  not ”  — mindest  not  —  “the  things  that 
be  of  God,”  — God’s  will,  God’s  cause,  —  “but  those 
that  be  of  men.”  This  heavy,  humiliating  rebuke  is 
recorded  by  all  the  synoptists.  It  entered  into  the 
story  which  the  apostles,  Peter  included,  were  accus¬ 
tomed  to  relate.  Other  instances  when  they  must  have 
felt  humbled  by  the  Saviour’s  displeasure  are  recorded 
with  the  same  candor.  For  example,  when  they  re¬ 
pelled  those  who  brought  little  children  to  him,  Jesus 
“was  much  displeased,”  and  bade  them  let  the  children 
come  to  him  (Mark  x.  13,  14 ;  cf.  Matt.  xix.  14 ;  Luke 
xviii.  16). 

What  surer  mark  of  an  honest  narrator  can  exist 
than  a  willingness  to  give  a  plain,  unvarnished  account 


272  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


of  his  own  mortifying  mistakes,  and  the  consequent  re¬ 
buffs,  whether  just  or  not,  which  he  has  experienced? 
When  Boswell  writes  that  Johnson  said  to  him,  with  a 
stern  look,  “  Sir,  I  have  known  David  Garrick  longer 
than  you  have  done,  and  I  know  no  right  you  have  to 
talk  to  me  on  the  subject,”  or  when  he  writes,  again, 
that  Johnson  said  to  him,  “  Sir,  endeavor  to  clear  your 
mind  of  cant,”  no  one  can  doubt  that  the  biographer  is 
telling  a  true  story.  Men  are  not  likely  to  invent 
anecdotes  to  their  own  discredit.  When  we  find  them 
in  any  author,  a  strong  presumption  is  raised  in  favor 
of  his  general  truthfulness. 

4.  The  apostles  related,  and  the  evangelists  record, 
serious  delinquencies  of  which  the  former  were  guilty, 
—  unworthy  tempers  of  feeling,  and  offences  of  a  grave 
character. 

They  tell  us  of  the  ambition  and  rivalry  which 
sprang  up  among  them,  and  of  the  wrangles  that  en¬ 
sued.  The  mother  of  John  and  James  petitioned  that 
her  sons  might  have  the  highest  places  of  honor  in  the 
new  kingdom,  of  the  nature  of  which  she  had  so  poor  a 
conception  (Matt.  xx.  20,  21).  The  two  apostles  joined 
in  the  request  (Mark  x.  37),  having  first  tried  to  draw 
from  their  Master  a  promise  that  they  should  have 
whatever  they  might  ask  for.  The  other  ten  disciples 
were  angry  with  John  and  James  for  preferring  such  a 
request  (Mark  x.  41).  One  day,  on  their  way  to  Caper¬ 
naum,  the  disciples  fell  into  a  dispute  on  the  same  ques¬ 
tion, —  who  should  have  the  precedence  (Mark  ix.  34; 
cf.  Luke  ix.  46,  xxii.  24).  Altercations  of  this  sort, 
so  they  themselves  related,  broke  out  in  their  com¬ 
pany  on  different  occasions.  Will  the  reader  ponder 
the  fact  that  all  four  of  the  evangelists  give  a  circum¬ 
stantial  account  of  the  denials  of  Peter  ?  (Matt.  xxvi. 


TRUSTWORTHINESS  OF  THE  APOSTLES’  TESTIMONY.  273 

58  seq.;  Mark  xiv.  54  seq. ;  Luke  xxii.  54  seq.:  John 
xviii.  15  seq.)  Here  was  the  apostle  who  had  a  kind 
of  leadership  among  them.  It  was  he  whose  preaching 
was  most  effective  among  the  Jews  everywhere  (Gal. 
ii.  8).  Yet  this  undisguised  account  of  his  cowardice, 
treachery,  and  falsehood,  on  a  most  critical  occasion,  is 
presented  in  detail  in  the  evangelical  narrative.  It  is 
impossible  to  doubt  that  it  formed  a  part  of  the  story 
of  the  crucifixion,  which  the  apostles,  each  and  all  of 
them,  told  to  their  converts.  Could  a  more  striking 
proof  of  simple  candor  be  afforded  ?  Is  it  not  obvious 
that  the  narrators  sank  their  own  personality  —  merged 
it,  as  it  were  —  in  the  absorbing  interest  with  which 
they  looked  back  on  the  scenes  which  they  had  beheld, 
and  in  which  they  had  taken  part?  And  then  they 
relate  that  at  the  crucifixion  they  all  forsook  Jesus,  and 
fled  (Matt.  xxvi.  56  ;  Mark  xiv.  50).  They  make  no 
attempt  to  conceal  the  fact  that  they  left  his  burial  to 
be  performed  by  one  who  was  comparatively  a  stranger, 
and  by  the  women  whose  devotion  overcame  their 
terror,  or  who  considered  that  their  sex  would  be  their 
safeguard.  Beyond  the  conscientious  spirit  which  this 
portrayal  of  their  own  infirmities  and  misconduct  com¬ 
pels  us  to  attribute  to  the  apostles,  these  features  of 
the  Gospel  narrative  show  that  they  forgot  themselves, 
so  intent  were  they  on  depicting  things  just  as  they 
had  occurred.  In  other  words,  they  impress  on  us  the 
objective  character  of  the  Gospel  history  as  it  is  given 
on  the  pages  of  the  evangelists. 

5.  It  is  an  impressive  indication  of  the  objective 
character  of  the  apostolic  narrative,  that  the  manifesta¬ 
tions  of  human  infirmity  in  Jesus,  infirmity  which  does 
not  involve  sin,  are  referred  to  in  the  plainest  manner, 
and  without  the  least  apology  or  concealment.  These 


274  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF, 


passages  occur  side  by  side  with  the  accounts  of 
miracles.  Had  there  been  a  conscious  or  latent  dis¬ 
position  to  glorify  their  Master  at  the  expense  of  truth, 
it  is  scarcely  possible  that  they  would  have  spread  out 
these  illustrations  of  human  weakness.  It  is  only 
necessary  to  remind  the  reader  of  the  record  of  the 
agony  of  Jesus  in  the  garden.  We  are  informed  that 
he  was  overwhelmed  with  mental  distress.  He  sought 
the  close  companionship  of  the  three  disciples  who  were 
most  intimate  with  him.  He  prostrated  himself  on  the 
earth  in  supplication  to  God.  As  he  lay  on  the  ground, 
one  of  the  evangelists  tells  us  that  the  sweat  fell  from 
his  body,  either  actually  mingled  with  blood,  or  in  drops 
like  drops  of  blood  issuing  from  the  wounds  of  a  fallen 
soldier.  “  My  soul  ”  —  thus  he  had  spoken  to  the  three 
disciples- — “is  exceeding  sorrowful  unto  death.”  In 
the  presence  of  passages  like  these,  how  can  it  be 
thought  that  the  apostles  were  enthusiasts,  oblivious 
or  careless  of  facts,  and  bent  on  presenting  an  ideal  of 
their  own  devising,  rather  than  the  life  of  Jesus  just  as 
they  had  seen  it  ? 1 

6.  The  truthfulness  of  the  apostles  is  proved  by  their 
submission  to  extreme  suffering  and  to  death  for  the 
testimony  which  they  gave. 

They  had  nothing  to  gain,  from  an  earthly  point  of 
view,  by  relating  the  history  which  is  recorded  in  the 
Gospels :  on  the  contrary,  they  had  every  thing  to  lose. 
It  had  been  distinctly  foretold  to  them  that  they  would 
be  “  delivered  up  to  be  afflicted,”  delivered  up  to  pain 
and  distress,  be  objects  of  universal  hatred,  and  be 


1  It  does  not  fall  within  the  plan  of  John  to  repeat  this  narrative  of 
the  synoptists.  But  John  reports  an  instance  of  the  deep  distress  of 
Jesus:  “Now  is  my  soul  troubled”  etc.  (xii.  27).  John  alone  relates 
that  he  “  wept”  (xi.  PA.'). 


TRUSTWORTHINESS  OF  THE  APOSTLES’  TESTIMONY.  275 


killed  (Matt.  xxiv.  9).  They  were  forewarned  that 
they  would  be  seized,  imprisoned,  brought  before  rulers 
as  criminals,  betrayed  by  friends  and  nearest  relatives 
(Luke  xxi.  12-16,  cf.  xi.  49).  “The  time  cometh,”  it 
was  said,  “  that  whosoever  killeth  you  will  think  that 
he  doeth  God  service  ”  (John  xvi.  2,  cf.  xv.  20,  xvi.  33). 
These  predictions  were  verified  in  their  experience. 
Whatever  view  is  taken  of  the  authorship  of  the  Gos¬ 
pels,  none  can  doubt  that  these  passages  are  a  picture 
of  what  the  apostles  really  endured.  The  persecution 
of  the  apostles  was  the  natural  result  of  the  spirit 
which  had  prompted  the  crucifixion  of  Jesus.  It  began 
as  soon  as  they  began  publicly  to  preach  “  Jesus  and 
the  resurrection.”  There  were  men,  like  Saul  of  Tar¬ 
sus,  eager  to  hunt  down  the  heretics.  The  murder  of 
Stephen  occurred  in  the  year  33  or  34,  about  two  years 
after  the  death  of  Christ.  The  apostles  were  objects  of 
mingled  scorn  and  wrath.  Their  situation  is  described 
by  St.  Paul  as  follows:  “For  I  think  that  God  hath 
set  forth  us  the  apostles  last,  as  it  were  appointed  to 
death” — or  doomed  to  death  —  “for  we  are  made  a 
spectacle  unto  the  world,  and  to  angels,  and  to  men. 
.  .  .  Even  unto  this  present  hour  we  both  hunger  and 
thirst,  and  are  naked  and  are  buffeted,  and  have  no 
certain  dwelling-place.  .  .  .  Being  reviled,  we  bless ; 
being  persecuted,  we  suffer  it ;  being  defamed,  we  en¬ 
treat  :  we  are  made  as  the  filth  of  the  world,  and  are 
the  offscouring  of  all  things  unto  this  day  ”  (1  Cor.  iv. 
9-14).  There  were  certain  peculiar  exposures  to 
suffering  in  the  case  of  Paul,  yet  he  describes  here  the 
common  lot  of  the  apostles.  Defamation,  public  scorn, 
physical  hardship,  assaults  by  mobs,  and  punishments 
by  the  civil  authority,  imprisonment,  death,  —  this  was 
what  they  saw  before  them,  and  what  they  actually 


276  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

suffered.  Ostracism,  with  all  the  indignities  and  pains 
that  bitter  fanaticism  can  inflict  along  with  it,  was  the 
reward  which  they  had  to  expect  for  their  testimony  to 
the  teaching,  the  miracles,  the  resurrection,  following 
the  death,  of  Jesus.  To  suspect  them  of  dishonesty  is 
to  imagine  that  men  will  fling  away  property,  friends, 
home,  country,  and  life  itself,  for  the  sake  of  telling  a 
falsehood  that  is  to  bring  them  no  sort  of  advantage. 

Hardly  less  irrational  is  it  to  charge  them  with  self- 
delusion.  It  has  been  shown  in  a  preceding  chapter, 
by  internal  evidence  derived  from  the  Gospels,  and  by 
other  proofs,  that  miracles  were  wrought  by  Christ.  It 
luts  been  shown  that  the  theory  of  hallucination  will 
not  avail  to  explain  the  unanimous,  immovable  belief 
of  the  apostles  in  his  resurrection.  The  twelve  at¬ 
tended  Jesus  through  his  public  ministry,  from  the  bap¬ 
tism  in  Jordan  to  the  close.  The  occurrences  which 
necessarily  presuppose  the  exertion  of  miraculous  power 
took  place  in  their  presence.  They  were  events  in 
which  they  had  a  deep  concern.  The  apostles  were 
not  wanting  in  common  sense,  and  they  were  conscien¬ 
tious  men.  They  were  the  men  whom  Jesus  Christ 
selected  to  be  his  companions.  Unless,  as  the  enemies 
of  Jesus  charged,  he  was  ua  deceiver,”  and  most  ac¬ 
complished  in  the  art,  how  could  they  mistake  the 
character  of  these  works,  which,  as  they  alleged,  he 
performed  before  their  eyes? 

But  as  the  miracles  are  the  part  of  the  Gospel  his¬ 
tory  which  in  these  days  chiefly  provokes  incredulity, 
it  is  well  to  consider  this  topic  further.  No  more  time 
need  be  spent  on  Hume’s  argument  to  show  that  a  mira 
cle  is,  under  no  circumstances,  capable  of  being  pro  ved. 
As  Mill  observes,  all  that  Hume  has  made  out  is,  that 
no  evidence  can  prove  a  miracle  to  an  atheist,  or  to 


TRUSTWORTHINESS  OF  THE  APOSTLES’  TESTIMONY.  277 

a  deist  who  supposes  himself  able  to  prove  that  God 
would  not  interfere  to  produce  the  miraculous  event 
in  question.1  We  assume  the  being  and  moral  attri¬ 
butes  of  God  ;  and  we  have  no  call  to  discuss  the  char¬ 
acter,  in  other  respects,  of  Hume’s  reasoning.2 

We  are  not  called  upon  to  confute  the  opinion,  that 
i  he  first  three  Gospels  —  the  historical  character  of  the 
fourth  has  already  been  vindicated  —  were  moulded  by 
a  doctrinal  purpose  or  bias,  since  that  opinion  finds  no 
countenance  now  from  judicious  critics  of  whatever 
theological  creed.  The  first  Gospel  contains  numerous 
passages  in  which  the  catholic  character  of  Christianity 
is  emphatically  set  forth.3  “  Our  Matthew,”  says  Man¬ 
gold,  an  unprejudiced  critic,  not  at  all  wedded  to  tra¬ 
ditional  views,  “is,  to  be  sure,  written  by  a  Jewish 
Christian  for  Jewish  Christians ;  ”  “  but  he  has  given 
us  no  writing  with  a  Jewish  Christian  doctrinal  bias.” 
“  The  words  of  Jesus,  quoted  in  Matthew,”  says  Reuss, 
“  which  form  the  doctrinal  kernel  of  the  book,  are  not 
selected  in  the  slightest  degree  from  that  point  of  view,” 
—  that  of  the  Palestinian  Jewish  Christianity,  —  “  but 
go  beyond  it  in  a  hundred  places,  and  bespeak  so  much 
the  more  the  faithfulness  of  the  tradition.”  4  Mark  has 
decidedly  outgrown  Judaism;  “but  no  dogmatic  ten¬ 
dency  can  on  this  account  be  saddled  on  his  presenta¬ 
tion  of  the  Gospel  history,  as  long  as  it  is  not  shown 
that  Christ  himself  did  not  rise  above  Judaism,  and 
that  the  Jewish  Christian  Matthew  looks  on  Christi- 

1  J.  S  Mill,  System  of  Logic,  vol.  ii.  p.  110. 

2  See  cliap.  iv.  of  this  work. 

8  Matt.  viii.  11,  ix.  16  seq.,  xii.  8,  xiii.  31,  xx.  1  seq.,  xxi.  28,  33,  xxii. 
10,  xxiii.  33,  xxiv.  14,  xxviii.  19  ;  cf.  Essays  on  the  Supernatural  Origin 
of  Christianity,  pp.  213-215;  Reuss,  Gesch.  d.  heilig.  Schriftt.  d.  N.  T 
p.  195. 

4  Gesch.,  etc.,  p.  194. 


278  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


anity  as  a  development  within  the  limits  of  Judaism.” 1 
In  Luke,  “not  only  does  the  history  of  Jesus  acquire 
in  general  no  other  significance  than  in  Matthew,  no¬ 
where  is  there  disclosed  a  design  to  set  aside  or  to 
overcome  an  imperfect  understanding  of  it:  on  the 
contrary,  there  occur  numerous  words  and  acts,  drawn 
from  the  general  tradition,  which,  when  literaxly  taken, 
rather  wear  a  Jewish  Christian  coloring.  But  here  it 
will  be  nearest  to  the  truth  to  affirm  that  not  a  party 
feeling,  but  the  most  independent  historical  research,  — 
or,  if  we  prefer  so  to  call  it,  a  thirst  for  the  fullest  pos¬ 
sible  information,  —  has  governed  in  the  collection  of 
the  matter.” 2  The  whole  charge  of  being  Tendenz - 
Schriften ,  which  Baur  and  his  school  brought  against 
the  Gospels,  is  founded  on  untenable  theories  respecting 
their  authorship  and  order  of  composition. 

If  the  “  tendency-theory  ”  no  longer  calls  for  detailed 
refutation,  the  same  thing  is  true  of  the  attack  of 
Strauss  on  the  credibility  of  the  Gospels,  which  is 
founded  on  their  alleged  inconsistencies.  This  attack 
is  now  acknowledged  by  judicious  scholars  to  be  merely 
the  work  of  an  expert  advocate,  bent  on  finding  con¬ 
tradictions  in  testimony  which  he  is  anxious  to  break 
down.3  The  Gospel  narratives  are  wholly  inartificial. 
No  compositions  could  be  more  open  to  assault  from 
critics  who  ignore  this  character  that  belongs  to  them, 
and  labor  to  magnify  the  importance  of  variations 
which  only  serve  to  prove  that  there  was  no  collusion 
among  the  several  writers,  and  no  attempt  on  the  part 
of  anybody  to  frame  a  story  that  should  be  proof 
against  hostile  comment. 

1  Mangold,  p.  342;  cf.  Holtzmann,  Die  Synopt.  Evangg.,  p.  384  seq. 

2  Reuss,  p.  212. 

8  For  a  full  reply  to  Strauss  on  this  topic,  see  The  Supernatural  Ori 
gin  of  Christianity,  chap.  vi. 


TRUSTWORTHINESS  OF  THE  APOSTLES’  TESTIMONY.  279 


As  the  miracles  rest  on  the  same  grounds  of  evidence 
as  the  other  matters  of  fact  to  which  the  apostles  tes¬ 
tify,  special  reasons  are  required  for  discrediting  their 
testimony  as  regards  this  one  class  of  events.  Is  it  said 
that  miracles  are  incredible  ?  The  answer  is,  that,  being 
a  necessary  element  and  the  natural  adjuncts  of  revela¬ 
tion,  they  are  not  incredible,  unless  the  fact  of  reve¬ 
lation,  and  of  the  Christian  revelation  in  particular,  is 
incredible.  Their  improbability  is  just  as  great  as,  and 
no  greater  than,  the  improbability  that  God  would  re¬ 
veal  himself  to  men,  and  send  his  Son  to  save  them. 
Is  it  objected  that  there  have  been  a  vast  number  of 
pretended  miracles  ?  The  answer  of  Bishop  Butler 
appears  sufficient,  that  mankind  have  not  been  oftener 
deluded  by  these  pretences  than  by  others.  “  Preju¬ 
dices  almost  without  number  and  without  name,  ro¬ 
mance,  affectation,  humor,  a  desire  to  engage  attention 
or  to  surprise,  the  party-spirit,  custom,  little  competi¬ 
tions,  unaccountable  likings  and  dislikings,  —  these  in¬ 
fluence  men  strongly  in  common  matters.”  As  they 
are  not  reflected  on  by  those  in  whom  they  operate, 
their  effect  is  like  that  of  enthusiasm.  And  yet,  as 
Butler  adds,  human  testimony  in  common  matters  is 
not,  on  this  account,  discredited.  Because  some  narra¬ 
tives  of  miracles  spring  out  of  mere  enthusiasm,  it  is 
an  unwarrantable  inference  that  all  are  to  be  acco  mted 
for  in  this  way.1 

1  What  is  said  in  the  Gospels  of  Jesus  prior  to  his  public  ministry  calls 
for  special  remark.  Of  this  portion  of  his  life,  the  apostles  were  not 
directly  cognizant.  With  regard  to  it  they  were  dependent  upon  others 
for  information.  The  brief  and  fragmentary  character  of  the  introduc¬ 
tory  narratives  in  Matthew  and  Luke  is  adapted  to  inspire  confidence, 
rather  than  distrust,  since  it  indicates  authentic  tradition  as  the  proba¬ 
ble  source  of  them.  The  most  important  fact  contained  in  them  is  the 
miraculous  conception.  For  the  historical  truth  of  this  record,  there  is 
proof  in  the  circumstance  that  Matthew’s  and  Luke’s  narratives  are 


280  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


from  separate  sources,  and  are  complementary  to  each  other.  More* 
over,  these  sources  are  Jewish.  Certainly  Luke’s  account  is  from  a 
Jewish  Christian  document.  There  was  nothing  in  Jewish  ideas  to 
lead  to  the  origination  of  a  myth  of  this  sort.  As  for  Judaizing 
Christians,  they  would  be  the  last  to  imagine  an  incident  so  contrary  to 
their  dogmatic  tendencies.  As  to  Isa.  vii.  14,  there  is  no  proof  that 
it  had  been  applied  by  the  Jews  to  the  Messiah;  and  the  Hebrew  term 
used  there  did  not  necessarily  denote  an  unmarried  person.  Luke  re¬ 
peatedly  refers  to  the  recollections  of  Mary  respecting  the  early  dajrs  of 
Jesus  (Luke  ii.  19,  51).  It  is  probable  that  she  lived  at  Jerusalem  with 
John.  That  John  and  Paul  do  not  connect  the  Saviour’s  divinity,  or 
even  his  sinlessness,  with  his  miraculous  birth,  goes  to  prove  that  doc¬ 
trinal  belief  did  not  engender  the  story.  Luke’s  designation  of  Jesus 
as  holy,  in  connection  with  his  miraculous  conception  (Luke  i.  35;  cf. 
Matt.  i.  20),  is  not  equivalent  to  sinlessness.  If  the  origination  of  such 
a  myth  could  be  credited  to  Gentile  Christians,  which,  especially  at  so 
early  a  date,  is  an  unlikely  supposition,  we  could  not  account  for  its 
adoption  in  the  circle  of  Palestinian  Jewish  Christians.  How  the  idea 
of  a  miraculous  element  in  the  birth  of  “  the  second  Adam  ”  comports 
with  the  function  that  was  to  belong  to  him  as  a  new  creative  potence 
in  humanity,  together  with  the  force  of  the  historical  proofs,  is  cogently 
presented  by  Neander,  Leben  Jesu,  p.  14  seq.  See  also  the  instructive 
discussion  of  Weiss,  Leben  Jesu,  i.  212  seq.  That  difficulties  should 
exist  in  connection  with  details  in  the  narratives  of  the  opening  period 
of  Christ’s  life,  which  are  collected  in  Matthew  and  Luke,  is  to  be  ex¬ 
acted.  It  is  natural  that  Strauss  should  make  the  most  of  them. 


I 

CHAPTER  X. 

THE  MIRACLES  OF  THE  GOSPEL  IN  CONTRAST  WITH 
HEATHEN  AND  ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES.* 

It  is  frequently  alleged,  that  the  evidence  in  favor  of 
pagan  and  ecclesiastical  miracles,  which  fill  so  large  a 
space  in  chronicles  of  a  former  day,  but  which  are  gener¬ 
ally  allowed  to  be  fictitious,  is  as  strong  as  that  for  the 
miracles  recorded  in  the  Gospels.  What  is  to  be  said  of 
the  ecclesiastical  miracles  is,  in  the  main,  applicable  to 
the  miraculous  tales  found  in  ancient  heathen  writers, 
from  Herodotus  to  Livy,  and  from  Livy  to  the  fall  of 
the  Graeco-Roman  paganism.  To  the  stream  of  church 
miracles,  then,  which  flows  down  from  the  early  centu¬ 
ries,  through  the  middle  ages,  almost  or  quite  to  our 
own  time,  we  may  confine  our  attention.  Is  the  evi¬ 
dence  for  these  alleged  miracles  equivalent  in  force 
to  that  of  the  miracles  recorded  by  the  evangelists? 
So  far  from  this  being  true,  there  are  broad  marks  of 
distinction  by  which  these  last  are  separated  from  the 
general  current  of  miraculous  narrative. 

1.  The  Gospel  miracles  are  for  the  express  purpose 
of  attesting  revelation.  They  are  the  proper  counter¬ 
part  and  proof  of  revelation.  They  occur,  with  few 
exceptions,  only  at  the  marked  epochs  of  revelation,  — 
the  Mosaic  era,  the  reform  and  advance  of  the  Old 

1  Among  the  valuable  discussions  of  this  subject,  are  Douglas’s 
Criterion,  Newman’s  Two  Essays  (4th  ed.,  1875),  and  Mozley’s  Bampton 
Lectures. 


281 


282  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

Testament  religion  under  the  great  prophets,  and  in 
connection  with  the  ministry  of  Christ  and  the  found¬ 
ing  of  the  church.  “We  know,”  it  was  said,  “that 
thou  art  a  teacher  come  from  God;  for  no  man  can  do 
these  miracles  that  thou  doest,  except  God  be  with 
him.”  (John  iii.  2.) 

On  the  contrary,  ecclesiastical  miracles  profess  to  be 
for  a  lower,  and,  in  general,  for  a  signally  lower  end. 
At  the  best,  they  are  to  give  efficacy  to  the  preaching 
of  a  missionary.  Miracles  were  requisite  as  a  part  and 
proof  of  revelation.  When  they  have  once  taken  place, 
testimony  is  all  that  can  reasonably  be  demanded  as  a 
ground  of  faith.  There  is  no  call  for  a  perpetual  inter¬ 
ruption  of  the  course  of  nature.  Even  the  Roman- 
Catholic  Church  holds  that  the  whole  deposit  of  reve¬ 
lation  was  with  Christ  and  the  apostles.  The  dogmatic 
decisions  of  popes  and  councils  are  only  the  exposition 
of  that  primitive  doctrine.  Their  function  is  not  to 
originate,  but  to  define,  Christian  truth. 

But,  in  a  vast  majority  of  instances,  the  ecclesiastical 
miracles  are  for  some  end  below  that  of  serving  as  the 
credentials  of  a  missionary.  At  the  best,  they  are  to 
relieve  the  distress  of  an  individual,  with  no  ulterior 
and  more  comprehensive  end  such  as  attaches  to  the 
miracles  wrought  by  Jesus  and  the  apostles.  In  a  mul¬ 
titude  of  instances  they  simply  minister  to  an  appetite 
for  marvels.  Witness  the  wonders  that  crowd  the  pages 
of  the  apocryphal  Gospels.  Many  are  for  objects  ex¬ 
tremely  trivial.  Tertullian  gives  an  account  of  a  vision 
in  which  an  angel  prescribed  to  a  female  the  size  and 
length  of  her  veil.  Some,  like  the  Jansenist  miracles 
at  the  tomb  of  Abbd  Paris,  to  which  Hume  appeals, 
are  in  the  cause  of  a  political  or  religious  party,  and 
against  an  antagonistic  faction.  Very  frequently  mira* 


HEATHEN  AND  ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES.  283 


cles  are  valued,  and  said  to  be  wrought,  merely  as  veri¬ 
fies  dons  of  the  sanctity  of  a  person  of  high  repute  for 
piety. 

The  distinction  which  we  are  here  considering  is  one 
of  great  importance.  No  doubt  there  is  a  presumption 
against  the  probable  occurrence  of  miracles,  which 
grows  out  of  our  instinctive  belief  in  the  uniformity  of 
nature,  and  the  conviction  we  have  that  an  established 
order  is  beneficent.  This  presumption  Christians  believe 
to  be  neutralized  by  the  need  of  revelation,  and  by  the 
perceived  character  of  the  Christian  system  and  of  its 
author.  But  in  proportion  as  the  end  assigned  to  mira¬ 
cles  is  lower,  that  adverse  presumption  remains  in  full 
force. 

2.  The  Gospel  miracles  were  not  wrought  in  coinci¬ 
dence  with  a  prevailing  system,  and  for  the  furtherance 
of  it,  but  in  opposition  to  prevalent  beliefs. 

This  is  another  striking  difference.  Jesus  won  all  of 
his  disciples  to  faith  in  him.  They  did  not  inherit  this 
faith :  they  did  not  grow  up  in  it.  He  and  they  had 
to  confront  opposition  at  every  step.  “  The  world,”  he 
said,  “  hatetli  me.”  His  doctrines  and  his  idea  of  the 
kingdom  of  God  clashed  with  Judaic  opinion  and  feel¬ 
ing.  Christianity  had  to  push  forward  in  the  face  of 
the  hostility  of  all  the  existing  forms  of  religion.  But 
how  is  it  with  the  ecclesiastical  miracles  of  later  ages  ? 
They  occurred,  if  wrought  at  all,  in  the  midst  of  com¬ 
munities  and  smaller  circles  which  were  already  in  fer- 
vent  sympathy  with  the  cause  in  behalf  of  which  they 
were  supposed  to  be  performed.  The  narrations  of  them 
sprang  up  among  those  who  were,  beforehand,  full  of 
confidence  in  the  church  as  the  possessor  of  miraculous 
power,  and  in  the  individuals  to  whose  agency  such 
miracles  were  ascribed.  Recollecting  what  occurred 


284  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


at  the  origin  of  the  church,  full  of  faith  in  the  super 
natural  powers  which  were  thought  still  to  reside  in  it, 
men  were  on  the  lookout  for  startling  manifestations 
of  them.  There  was  a  previous  habit  of  credulity  in 
this  particular  direction.  The  same  scepticism  which  is 
deemed  reasonable  in  respect  to  stories  of  miracles  j_  er- 
formed  by  Dominicans  or  Franciscans,  where  the  rival 
interests  of  the  two  orders  are  involved,  is  natural  in 
regard  to  wonders  said  to  have  been  wrought  in  behalf 
of  a  creed  assumed  to  be  true,  and  enthusiastically 
cherished.  In  Galilee,  Judaea,  and  in  the  various  prov¬ 
inces  of  the  Roman  Empire,  Christianity  was  a  new  re¬ 
ligion.  It  was  at  the  start  an  unpopular  religion,  in 
a  struggle  against  wide-spread,  bitter  prejudice.  The 
whole  atmosphere  was  thus  totally  different  from  that 
which  prevailed  in  the  middle  ages,  or  even  in  the 
Roman  Empire,  after  the  gospel  had  succeeded  in  gain¬ 
ing  hundreds  of  thousands  of  converts. 

3.  The  motives  to  fraud,  which  justly  excite  suspi¬ 
cion  in  the  case  of  many  of  the  ecclesiastical  miracles, 
did  not  exist  in  the  case  of  the  miracles  of  the  gospel. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  pious  fraud  played  a  promi¬ 
nent  part  in  producing  the  tales  of  the  supernatural 
which  are  interspersed  in  the  biographies  of  the  saints. 
Ecclesiastical  superiors  have  often  given  a  free  rein  to 
popular  credulity,  on  the  maxim  that  the  end  sanctifies 
the  means.  Where  positive  trickery  has  not  been 
practised,  circumstances  have  been  concealed,  which,  if 
known,  would  have  stripped  many  a  transaction  of 
the  miraculous  aspect  which  it  wore  in  the  eyes  of  the 
ignorant.  The  same  spirit  that  gave  rise  to  the  mediae¬ 
val  forgeries,  of  which  the  Pseudo-Isidorian  decretals 
are  a  conspicuous  example,  was  capable  of  conniving 
at  numberless  deceits  which  served  to  bolster  up  sacer- 


HEATHEN  AND  ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES.  285 


dotal  pretensions.  In  order  that  an  individual  may  be 
enrolled  as  a  saint,  and  invoked  in  this  character,  it 
has  been  held  to  be  indispensable  that  he  should  have 
wrought  miracles.  Miracles  are  held  to  be  a  badge  of 
sainthood.  It  is  easy  to  conceive,  not  only  what  a 
stimulus  this  theory  must  have  afforded  to  the  devout 
imagination,  but  also  what  conscious  exaggeration  and 
wilful  invention  must  have  sprung  out  of  such  a  creed 

When  we  enter  the  company  of  Christ  and  the  apos¬ 
tles,  we  find  that  this  incentive  to  the  invention  of 
miracles  is  utterly  absent.  We  find,  rather,  the  deep¬ 
est  antipathy  to  every  species  of  deceit  and  fraud. 

4.  A  great  number  of  the  Roman-Catholic  miracles 
can  be  explained  by  natural  causes,  without  any  im¬ 
peachment  of  the  honesty  of  the  narrators.  Frequently, 
natural  events  of  no  uncommon  occurrence  are  viewed 
as  supernatural.  The  physical  effect  of  vigils,  and  fast¬ 
ings  and  pilgrimages,  on  the  maladies  of  those  who  re¬ 
sorted  to  these  practices,  was,  no  doubt,  in  many  cases 
salutary.  As  the  body  acts  on  the  mind,  so  the  mind 
powerfully  affects  the  body.  Heated  imagination,  ar¬ 
dent  faith,  the  confident  hope  of  relief,  may  produce 
physical  effects  of  an  extraordinary  character.  There 
is  a  variety  of  nervous  disorders  which  are  cured  by  a 
sudden  shock  which  turns  feeling  into  a  new  channel. 
Mohammed  was  a  victim  of  hysteria  attended  by  cata¬ 
lepsy.  Especially  when  medical  knowledge  was  scanty* 
exceptional  conditions  of  mind  and  body  were  easily 
mistaken  for  supernatural  phenomena. 

If  the  miracles  of  the  Gospels  consisted  only  of  vis¬ 
ions,  or  of  the  cure  of  less  aggravated  cases  of  demo¬ 
niacal  possession,  or  of  the  healing  of  certain  diseases 
which  spring  mainly  from  nervous  derangement,  there 
might  be  no  occasion  for  referring  them  to  supernatural 


286  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


agency.  But  such  miracles  as  the  cure  of  the  lunatic 
at  Gadara,  the  multiplication  of  the  loaves,  the  conver¬ 
sion  of  water  into  wine,  the  raising  of  the  son  of  the 
widow  of  Nain,  and  of  Lazarus,  the  resurrection  of 
Jesus  himself,  baffle  every  attempt  at  naturalistic  solu 
tion.  If  miracles  such  as  these  are  admitted  on  the 
ground  of  the  testimony  to  them,  taken  in  connection 
with  the  exalted  character  of  Christ  and  with  the  doc¬ 
trine  of  Christianity,  it  is  alike  unreasonable  and  profit¬ 
less  to  resort  to  any  naturalistic  explanation  of  visions 
and  cures,  which,  considered  by  themselves,  might  per¬ 
haps  be  accounted  for  by  that  method.  The  whole  set 
of  Gospel  miracles  belong  together.  If  certain  of  them 
do  not  of  necessity  carry  us  beyond  the  limit  of  physio¬ 
logical  and  psychological  causes,  and  if  this  boundary 
is  not  strictly  definable,  there  are  others,  equally  well 
attested,  which  do  undeniably  lie  beyond  this  limit,  and 
must,  if  the  phenomena  are  admitted,  be  referred  to  the 
interposition  of  God. 

5.  The  incompetence  of  the  witnesses  to  ecclesiasti¬ 
cal  miracles,  as  a  rule,  is  a  decisive  reason  for  discredit¬ 
ing  their  accounts. 

We  do  not  include  under  this  head  an  intention  to 
deceive.  Reports  of  Pagan  and  ecclesiastical  miracles 
frequently  rest  on  no  contemporary  evidence.  It  was 
more  than  a  century  after  the  death  of  Apollonius  of 
Tyana  when  Philostratus  wrote  his  life.  Sixteen  years 
after  the  death  of  Ignatius  Loyola,  Ribadeneira  wrote 
his  biography.  At  that  time  he  knew  of  no  miracles 
performed  by  his  hero.  St.  Francis  Xavier  himself 
makes  but  one  or  two  references  to  wonders  wrought 
by  him  ;  and  these  occurrences  do  not  necessarily  imply 
any  thing  miraculous.  In  the  case  of  an  ancient  saint, 
Gregory  Thaumaturgus,  the  life  that  we  possess  was 


HEATHEN  AND  ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES. 


287 


written  long  after  his  time  by  Gregory  Nyssa.  Boni¬ 
face,  the  apostle  to  the  Germans,  and  Ansgar,  the  apos¬ 
tle  to  the  Scandinavians,  do  not  themselves  claim  to  he 
miracle-workers.  It  is  others  who  make  the  claim  for 
them.  Of  the  string  of  miracles  which  Bede  furnishes, 
there  are  few,  if  any,  which  lie  affirms  to  have  occurred 
within  his  personal  knowledge. 

Where  there  are  contemporary  narratives,  it  is  evi¬ 
dent,  generally,  that  the  chroniclers  are  too  deficient  in 
tli  3  habit  of  accurate  observation  to  be  trusted.  This 
want  of  carefulness  is  manifest  in  what  they  have  to 
say  of  ordinary  matters.  Dr.  Arnold  gives  an  example 
of  the  inaccuracy  of  Bede.1  The  Saxon  chronicler  de¬ 
scribes  a  striking  phenomenon  on  the  southern  coast  of 
England,  in  such  a  way  that  one  who  is  familiar  with  it 
would  be  quite  unable  to  recognize  it  from  this  author’s 
description.  Where  the  observation  of  natural  objects 
is  so  careless,  how  can  we  expect  a  correct  account  of 
phenomena  which  are  taken  for  miraculous  ?  Excited 
feeling,  on  the  watch  for  marvels,  in  minds  not  in  the 
least  trained  to  strict  observation,  renders  testimony  to 
a  great  extent  worthless. 

Now,  who  were  the  original  witnesses  of  the  miracles 
of  Jesus?  As  Cardinal  Newman  has  said,  “  They  were 
vey  far  from  a  dull  or  ignorant  race.  The  inhabitants 
of  a  maritime  and  border  country  (as  Galilee  was)  ;  en¬ 
gaged,  moreover,  in  commerce ;  composed  of  natives  of 
various  countries,  and  therefore,  from  the  nature  of  the 
case,  acquainted  with  more  than  one  language  —  have 
necessarily  their  intellects  sharpened,  and  their  minds 
considerably  enlarged,  and  are  of  all  men  least  disposed 
to  acquiesce  in  marvellous  tales.  Such  a  people  must 
have  examined  before  they  suffered  themselves  to  be 

1  Lectures  on  Modern  History  (Am.  ed.),  p.  128. 


288  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


excited  in  tlie  degree  which  the  evangelists  describe.” 
Their  conviction,  be  it  observed,  was  no  “  bare  and  in¬ 
dolent  assent  to  facts  which  they  might  have  thought 
antecedently  probable,  or  not  improbable,”  but  a  great 
change  in  principle  and  mode  of  life,  and  such  a  change 
as  involved  the  sacrifice  of  every  earthly  good.  There 
is  a  vast  difference  between  the  dull  assent  of  supersti 
tious  minds,  the  impressions  of  unreflecting  devotees, 
and  that  positive  faith  which  transformed  the  character 
of  the  first  disciples,  and  moved  them  to  forsake  tlieii 
kindred,  and  to  lay  down  their  lives,  in  attestation  of  the 
truth  of  their  testimony.  A  conviction  on  the  part  of 
such  persons,  and  attended  by  consequences  like  these, 
must  have  had  its  origin  in  an  observation  of  facts 
about  which  there  could  be  no  mistake. 

6.  The  Gospel  miracles,  unlike  the  ecclesiastical, 
were  none  of  them  merelj  tentative,  unsuccessful,  or 
of  doubtful  reality. 

In  ancient  times  the  temple  of  iEsculapius  was 
thronged  by  persons  in  quest  of  healing  at  the  hands 
of  the  god.  No  one  could  pretend  that  more  than  a 
fraction  of  these  votaries  were  actually  healed.  Of  the 
multitude  who  failed  of  the  benefit  there  was  no  men¬ 
tion  or  memory. 

To  come  down  to  a  later  day,  many  thousands  were 
annually  touched  for  the  scrofula  by  the  English  kings. 
Some  recovered ;  and  their  recovery,  no  doubt,  was 
blazoned  abroad.  But,  of  the  generality  of  those  who 
thus  received  the  royal  touch,  there  is  not  the  slightest 
proof  that  it  was  followed  by  a  recoverjo  So,  else¬ 
where,  among  those  to  whom  miraculous  power  has 
been  attributed,  the  instances  of  apparent  success  were 
connected  with  uncounted  failures  of  which  no  record 
is  preserved.  Even  in  the  cases  where  it  is  loudly 


HEATHEN  AND  ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES. 


289 


claimed  that  there  was  every  appearance  of  miracles,  as 
in  certain  of  the  wonders  at  the  tomb  of  the  Abbd  Paris, 
it  is  found  that  some  have  been  only  partially  relieved 
of  their  maladies,  or  have  experienced  soon  a  recurrence 
of  them. 

Mark  the  contrast  presented  by  the  miracles  of  the 
gospel.  They  were  performed  by  a  definite  class  of 
persons.  They  were  “the  signs  of  an  apostle.”  The 
main  point,  however,  is,  that  there  were  no  exceptions, 
none  on  whom  the  wonder-working  power  failed  of  its 
effect.  There  were  no  abortive  experiments.  All  whom 
Jesus  attempted  to  heal  were  healed.  None  went  away 
as  they  came.  None  went  away  with  painful  symp¬ 
toms  alleviated,  while  the  disorders  were  not  removed. 
Had  such  instances  of  failure  occurred,  they  would  nofc 
have  escaped  the  attention  of  the  apostles  and  of  their  * 
enemies.  Confidence  in  Christ  would  have  been  weak 
ened,  if  not  subverted.  In  accounting  for  the  gospel 
miracles,  the  supposition  of  accident  is  thus  precluded. 
We  do  not  reason  from  occasional  coincidences. 

T.  The  grotesque  character  of  many  of  the  ecclesias¬ 
tical  miracles  awakens  a  just  presumption  against  them 
as  a  class. 

A  miracle  emanates  from  the  power  of  God.  But  it 
will  not  be,  for  that  reason,  at  variance  with  his  other 
attributes.  As  far  as  an  alleged  miracle  appears  to  b« 
unworthy  of  God  in  any  particular,  it  loses  its  title  to 
be  credited. 

The  miracles  in  the  apocryphal  Gospels  (such  as 
that  of  the  throne  of  Herod,  drawn  out  to  its  right 
length  by  the  child  Jesus,  to  remedy  a  blunder  cf 
J  oseph  in  making  it)  give  no  unfair  idea  of  the  style  of 
many  narratives  in  the  legends  of  the  church.  Among 
the  miracles  attributed  to  Thomas  a  Becket  is  the  story 


290  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF, 


that  the  eyes  of  a  priest  of  Nantes,  who  doubted  them, 
fell  fiom  their  sockets.  “In  remembrance,”  says  Mr. 
Froude,  “  of  his  old  sporting  days,  the  archbishop  would 
mend  the  broken  wings  and  legs  of  hawks  which  had 
suffered  from  herons.”  “  Dead  lambs,  pigs,  and  geese 
were  restored  to  life,  to  silence  Sadducees  who  doubted 
the  resurrection.”  The  biographers  of  Xavier  relate, 
that,  having  washed  the  sores  of  a  poor  invalid,  he 
drank  the  water ,  and  the  sores  were  forthwith  healed. 
Even  St.  Bernard,  preaching  on  a  summer  day  in  a 
church  where  the  people  were  annoyed  by  flies,  excom¬ 
municates  these  winged  insects ;  and  in  the  morning 
they  are  found  to  be  all  dead,  and  are  swept  out  in 
heaps.  It  would  be  unjust  to  say  that  trivial,  ludi¬ 
crous,  or  disgusting  circumstances  belong  to  all  ecclesi¬ 
astical  miracles.  But  such  features  are  so  common,  that 
they  affix  a  corresponding  character  to  the  set  of  won¬ 
ders,  taken  as  a  whole,  to  which  they  pertain. 

That  the  miracles  of  the  Bible  have  a  dignity  and 
beauty  peculiar  to  themselves  is  acknowledged  by  dis¬ 
believers  ;  for  instance,  by  the  author  of  Supernatural 
Religion .  If  any  of  them  are  thought  to  bear  a  dif¬ 
ferent  look,  they  me  exceptions.  “Hence,”  observes 
Cardinal  Newman,  “the  Scripture  accounts  of  Eve’s 
temptation  by  the  serpent,  of  the  speaking  of  Balaam’s 
ass,  of  Jonah  and  the  whale,  and  of  the  devils  sent  into 
the  herd  of  swine,  are  by  themselves  more  or  less  im¬ 
probable,  being  unequal  in  dignity  to  the  rest.”  “  They 
are  then  supported,”  the  same  author  holds,  “by  the 
system  in  which  they  are  found,  as  being  a  few  out  of 
a  multitude,  and  therefore  but  exceptions  (and,  as  we 
suppose,  but  apparent  exceptions)  to  the  general  rule.” 
This  remark  implies  that  their  exceptional  character 
makes  it  necessary  that  they  should  have  an  extraordi* 


HEATHEN  AND  ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES.  291 


aary  support  if  they  are  to  be  credited.  When  the 
miracles  of  Scripture  are  looked  at  as  a  body,  they  are 
seen  to  be  of  an  elevated  character.  They  are  at  a 
wide  remove  in  this  respect  from  the  common  run  of 
pagan  and  ecclesiastical  miracles.  The  contrast  is  like 
that  of  a  genuine  coin  with  a  clumsy  counterfeit. 

8.  The  evidential  value  of  the  miracles  of  the  gos¬ 
pel  is  not  weakened,  even  if  it  be  admitted  that  miracu¬ 
lous  events  may  have  occasionally  occurred  in  later 
ages. 

The  restoration  of  the  sick  in  response  to  pra}rer  is 
commonly  through  no  visible  or  demonstrable  interfer¬ 
ence  with  natural  law.  Yet  no  one  should  be  charged 
with  credulity  for  holding,  that,  in  certain  exceptional 
instances,  the  supernatural  agency  discovers  itself  by 
evidence  palpable  to  the  senses.  So  discreet  an  histori- 
ical  critic  as  Neander  will  not  deny  that  St.  Bernard  may 
have  been  the  instrument  of  effecting  cures  properly 
miraculous.  It  is  true,  as  was  suggested  above,  that 
missionary  work  is  something  to  which  human  powers 
are  adequate,  and  which  requires  no  other  aid  from 
above  than  the  silent,  invisible  operation  of  the  Spirit 
of  God.  Yet  Edmund  Burke,  speaking  of  the  introduc¬ 
tion  of  Christianity  into  Britain  by  Augustine  and  his 
associates,  remarks :  “  It  is  by  no  means  impossible,  that, 
for  an  end  so  worthy,  Providence  on  some  occasions 
might  directly  have  interfered.”  “  I  should  think  it 
very  presumptuous  to  say,”  writes  F.  D.  Maurice,  “that 
it  has  never  been  needful,  in  the  modern  history  of  ihe 
world,  to  break  the  idols  of  sense  and  experience  by  the 
same  method  which  was  sanctioned  in  the  days  of  old.” 
Those  who,  like  the  writers  just  quoted,  hold  that 
miraculous  events  have  not  been  wholly  wanting  in 
later  ages,  cannot  maintain  that  they  have  occurred 


292  THE  GROUNDS  OF  TIIEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


under  such  conditions  of  uniformity  and  the  like,  as 
distinguish  the  miracles  of  Christ  and  the  apostles. 
The  most  that  can  be  claimed  is,  that  sometimes  they 
have  occurred  in  answer  to  prayer,  —  a  form  of  answer 
on  which  the  petitioner  has  never  been  able  to  count. 
The  judicious  student  who  surveys  the  entire  history  of 
miraculous  pretension  will  be  slow  to  admit  the  miracu¬ 
lous  in  particular  instances  of  the  kind  described,  with¬ 
out  the  application  of  strict  tests  of  evidence.  He  will 
bear  in  mind  that  the  great,  the  principal  design  of  the 
miracle  is  to  serve  as  at  once  a  constituent  and  proof  of 
revelation. 

A  particular  examination  of  the  alleged  miracles  of 
the  early  age  of  the  church  is  precluded  by  the  limits 
of  the  present  chapter.  The  following  points  are  spe¬ 
cially  worthy  of  attention  :  — 

1.  The  miracles  said  to  have  been  performed  in  the 
second  and  third  centuries  are  far  less  marked  and  less 
numerous  than  those  referred  to  in  the  two  centuries 
that  followed,  —  a  fact  the  reverse  of  that  which  we 
should  expect  if  these  narrations  were  founded  in  truth. 

2.  The  same  writers  —  as  Origen,  Tertullian,  Euse¬ 
bius,  Augustine  —  who  record  contemporary  miracles, 
imply  in  other  passages  that  the  age  of  miracles  had 
gone  by,  and  that  their  own  times  were  in  marked  con¬ 
trast,  in  this  respect,  with  the  era  of  the  apostles. 

3.  The  miracles  related  by  the  Fathers  are  mostly 
exorcisms,  the  healing  of  the  sick,  and  visions;  that 
is,  occurrences  where  natural  agencies  are  most  easily 
mistaken  for  supernatural.  Miracles  in  which  this 
error  is  impossible  lack  sufficient  attestation.1 

1  For  the  Patristic  passages  on  these  three  points,  see  Mozley’s 
Bampton  Lectures,  p.  195  seq 


HEATHEN  AND  ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES. 


293 


The  true  view  on  this  subject  appears  to  be,  that 
miraculous  manifestations  in  the  church  ceased  gradu¬ 
ally.  No  sharp  line  of  demarcation  can  be  drawn, 
marking  off  the  age  of  miracles  from  the  subsequent 
period,  when  the  operation  of  the  Divine  Providence 
and  Spirit  no  longer  was  palpably  distinguished  from 
the  movements  of  natural  law. 

As  we  advance  into  the  fourth  century,  called  the 
Nicene  age,  we  meet  with  a  notable  increase  in  the 
number  of  alleged  miracles.  Yet  Chrysostom,  Am¬ 
brose,  Augustine,  speak  of  the  apostolic  age  as  distin¬ 
guished  from  their  own  as  having  been  a  period  marked 
by  miracles.  Notwithstanding  the  high  merits  of  the 
authors  of  the  Nicene  era,  they  discover,  more  and 
more,  the  artificial  rhetorical  tone  which  had  now  come 
to  infest  literature.  There  was  a  habit  of  thought  and 
style  which  tends  to  breed  exaggeration.  It  was  a 
period  of  decadence.  Relic-worship,  the  invocation  of 
martyrs  and  saints,  and  like  superstitions,  established 
themselves  in  the  church;  and  the  alleged  miracles 
were  frequently  associated  with  these  customs.  A 
spirit  of  credulity  gained  ground.  The  evidence  for 
most  of  the  post-apostolic  miracles  which  the  Fathers 
advert  to  melts  away  on  examination.  In  cases  where 
there  is  no  ground  for  distrusting  the  sincerity  of  the 
narrator,  we  are  bound  to  consider  whether  the  phe¬ 
nomena  which  one  of  the  Fathers  reports  were  known 
to  him  directly ;  and,  if  they  were,  whether  they  neces¬ 
sarily  involve  any  thing  miraculous,  —  whether  they 
may  not  reasonably  be  referred  to  hallucination,  or  to 
some  other  source  of  unconscious  illusion. 

As  an  example,  we  may  take  the  reports  of  miracles 
which  Augustine  has  collected  in  his  treatise  on  the 
City  of  God.1  He  starts  with  a  reference  to  the  objee 


1  Lib.  xxii. 


294  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


tion  that  miracles  are  no  longer  wrought.  “It  might 
be  replied,”  he  says,  “that  they  are  no  longer  necessary, 
as  they  were  at  first.”  This  answer  is  in  keeping  with 
other  statements  made  by  him,  which  imply  that  no 
such  miracles  were  wrought  in  his  time  as  were  done  by 
Christ  and  the  apostles.  But  in  this  place  he  affirms 
that  miracles  are  wrought,  though  more  privately,  and 
that  they  are  less  widely  reported.  Many  of  those  to 
which  he  refers  are  alleged  to  have  been  performed  in 
connection  with  the  relics  of  the  proto-martyr  Stephen, 
which,  as  was  claimed,  were  discovered  in  A.D.  415,  at 
a  place  called  Carphagamala,  in  Palestine.  Gamaliel, 
the  Jewish  rabbi,  appeared  in  visions  to  Lucian,  a  priest 
of  the  church  there,  and  informed  him,  that  after 
Stephen  had  been  stoned  to  death,  and  his  body  had 
been  left  exposed  for  a  day  and  a  night,  it  was  carried, 
by  his  order,  to  this  place,  twenty  miles  distant.  Nico- 
demus,  also,  he  had  caused  to  be  interred  at  the  side  of 
Stephen,  and  Gamaliel’s  own  “  dear  son,  Alitas.”  The 
remains,  by  the  aid  of  this  information,  were  discov¬ 
ered,  and  a  new  shrine  for  pilgrims  was  thus  created 
at  Jerusalem.  A  portion  of  these  relics  found  their 
way  to  Africa,  and  became  the  centre  of  miraculous 
phenomena,  the  details  of  which  are  given  by  Augus¬ 
tine.  It  certainly  recjuires  a  great  stretch  of  credulity 
to  believe  that  these  relics,  thus  identified  with  the 
proto-martyr,  ever  really  belonged  to  him  ;  and  this 
circumstance  suggests  beforehand  a  legitimate  doubt  as 
to  miraculous  interpositions  in  connection  with  them. 
But  Augustine  also  relates  other  miracles  as  having 
occurred  in  Africa,  and  it  is  worth  while  to  notice 
these.  The  first  is  described  at  length:  it  is  the  dis¬ 
appearance  of  a  fistula  from  the  body  of  a  man  at 
Carthage,  who  had  not  long  before  undergone  a  surgical 


HEATHEN  AND  ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES.  295 


operation  for  the  same  trouble.  This  event,  which  fills 
Augustine  with  devout  amazement,  is  easily  accounted 
for  by  physicians  at  present,  without  any  recourse  to 
the  supernatural.  It  was  simply  ignorance  of  physi¬ 
ology  that  led  to  the  inference  that  it  was  a  miracle. 
The  next  case  is  that  of  Innocentia,  a  Christian  woman 
in  the  same  city,  who  had  a  cancer  on  one  of  her 
breasts,  and  was  cured  by  the  sign  of  the  cross  made 
upon  it  by  the  first  woman  whom  she  saw  coming  out 
of  the  baptistery,  of  whom  she  had  been  directed  in  a 
dream  to  ask  this  favor.  Here,  in  the  absence  of  a 
more  particular  statement  of  the  circumstances,  it  would 
be  rash  to  suppose  a  miracle.  But  the  attestation  is  in 
this  case  singularly  deficient.  The  supposed  miracle 
had  been  kept  secret,  much  to  Augustine’s  indignation, 
who  was  somehow  informed  of  the  event,  and  repri¬ 
manded  the  woman  for  not  making  it  public.  She  re¬ 
plied  that  she  had  not  kept  silence  on  the  subject.  But 
Augustine  found,  on  inquiry,  that  the  women  who  were 
best  acquainted  with  her  “knew  nothing  of  it,”  and 
“listened  in  great  astonishment,”  when,  at  his  instiga¬ 
tion,  she  told  her  story.  How  remarkable,  that  the 
sudden  deliverance  from  a  disorder  which  the  physicians 
had  pronounced  incurable  should  not  have  been  known 
to  her  most  intimate  female  acquaintance!  Why  did 
she  toll  Augustine  that  she  had  not  kept  it  to  herself? 
How  did  he  himself  find  it  out?  The  next  miracle  is 
that  of  “  black  woolly-haired  boys,”  who  appeared  to  a 
gouty  doctor,  and  warned  him  not  to  be  baptized  that 
year.  They  trod  on  his  feet,  and  gave  him  the  acutest 
pain.  He  knew  them  to  be  devils,  and  disobeyed  them. 
He  was  relieved  in  the  very  act  of  baptism,  and  did  not 
suffer  from  gout  afterward.  If  we  suppose  that  the 
fact  was  well  attested,  who  would  be  bold  enough  to 


29(5  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


ascribe  it  to  a  miracle  ?  How  easy,  in  a  multitude  of 
cures  of  this  sort,  to  confound  the  antecedent  with  the 
cause,  the  post  hoe  with  the  propter  hoc!  Several  of 
the  miracles  which  Augustine  had  gathered  into  his 
net  are  of  a  grotesque  character;  as  that  which  pro¬ 
vided  Florentius,  a  poor  tailor  of  Hippo,  with  a  new 
coat,  after  a  prayer  to  the  twenty  martyrs,  whose 
sh :  ne  was  near  at  hand.  Who  was  the  cook  that 
found  the  gold  ring  in  the  fish’s  belly?  and  who  was 
it  that  interrogated  her  on  the  subject?  There  are 
three  or  four  instances  of  the  raising  of  the  dead  which 
are  found  in  Augustine’s  list.  But  of  neither  of  these 
does  lie  pretend  to  have  been  an  eye-witness ;  nor,  if 
the  circumstances  are  credited  in  the  form  in  which 
they  are  given,  is  there  any  thing  to  prove  that  death 
had  actually  taken  place.  A  swoon,  or  the  temporary 
suspension  of  the  powers  of  life,  may  have  been  in  each 
instance  all  that  really  occurred. 

Another  miracle  in  Augustine’s  catalogue  is  that  of 
the  martyrs  of  Milan,  which  occurred  while  he  was  in 
that  city,  and  which  is  also  described  circumstantially 
by  Ambrose,  the  celebrated  bishop.  A  violent  conflict 
was  raging  between  Ambrose  and  the  mass  of  the 
populace,  on  the  one  side,  and  the  Arian  Empress  Jus- 
tina,  the  widow  of  Yalentinian  I.,  with  her  following, 
on  the  other.  Ambrose  had  refused  her  demand  that 
one  church  edifice  should  be  set  apart  for  Arian  wor¬ 
ship.  The  populace,  who  were  in  full  sympathy  with 
tehir  bishop,  were  in  a  high  state  of  excitement.  A 
new  church  was  to  be  dedicated,  and  they  were  eager 
for  relics  with  which  to  enrich  it.  Then  follows  the 
unexpected  discovery  of  the  remains  of  two  utterly 
forgotten  martyrs,  Protasius  and  Gervasius,  with  fresh 
blood  upon  them,  and  able  to  shake  the  earth  in  the 


HEATHEN  AND  ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES.  297 


neighborhood  where  they  lay.  As  they  are  transported 
through  the  city,  a  blind  butcher  touches  the  fringe  of 
the  pall  that  covers  them,  and  at  once  receives  his 
sight.  We  are  not  willing  to  join  with  Isaac  Taylor  in 
imputing  to  Ambrose  himself  complicity  in  a  fraud. 
Yet  the  circumstances  connected  with  the  discovery  of 
the  bodies  indicate  that  fraud  and  superstitious  imagi¬ 
nation  were  combined  in  those  who  were  most  active  in 
the  matter.  The  blindness  of  the  butcher  was  not 
congenital.  It  was  a  disorder  which  had  obliged  him 
to  retire  from  his  business.  But  oculists  know  well 
that  cases  of  total  or  partial  blindness  are  sometimes 
instantly  relieved.  What  was  the  special  cause  of  the 
disorder  in  this  instance  ?  Had  there  been  symptoms 
of  amendment  before?  Was  the  cure  complete  at  the 
moment  ?  As  long  as  we  are  unable  to  answer  these 
and  like  questions,  it  is  unwise  to  assume  that  there 
was  a  miracle.  We  miss  in  the  accounts,  we  may  add, 
the  sobriety  of  the  Gospel  narratives.  They  are  sur¬ 
charged  with  the  florid  rhetoric  to  which  we  have 
adverted. 

The  evidence  for  most  of  those  post-apostolic  miracles 
which  are  more  commonly  referred  to  melts  away  on 
examination.  The  miracle  of  44  the  thundering  legion,” 
whose  prayers  are  said  to  have  saved  the  army  of  Mar¬ 
cus  Aurelius  (A.D.  174),  and  to  have  thus  turned  him 
from  his  hostility  to  Christianity,  is  one  of  these.  But 
no  such  effect  was  produced  on  the  emperor’s  mind, 
since  he  persecuted  the  Christians  afterwards  (A.D.  178). 
The  tempest  of  rain  which  brought  relief  to  the  army, 
the  heathen  asserted  to  be  the  consequence  of  their 
own  prayers  to  Jupiter.  If  it  was  true  that  a  sudden 
shower  of  the  kind  described  in  the  story  followed 
upon  the  supplications  of  the  Christian  soldiers,  we 


298  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


should  hardly  be  justified  in  pronouncing  it  a  miracle 
in  the  proper  sense  of  the  term.  The  story  of  the 
cross  with  an  inscription  upon  it,  seen  by  Constantine 
in  the  sky,  Eusebius  heard  from  the  emperor  not  until 
twenty -six  years  after  the  event,  and  was  not  ac¬ 
quainted  with  it,  when,  with  the  best  opportunities  for 
informing  himself,  he  wrote  his  Church  History  (about 
A.D.  825).  That  Constantine  had  a  dream  in  the  night 
such  as  Lactantius  describes,  is  not  improbable.  It  is 
possible  that  on  the  day  previous,  a  parhelion,  or  some 
similar  phenomenon,  may  have  seemed  to  his  excited 
and  superstitious  feeling  a  cross  of  light.  Under  the 
circumstances,  and  considering  the  defects  in  the  testi¬ 
mony,  the  natural  explanation  is  far  the  most  probable. 
None  of  the  post-apostolic  miracles  appears  to  have  a 
stronger  attestation  than  that  of  the  breaking-out  of 
fire  from  the  foundations  of  the  temple  at  Jerusalem, 
when  the  workmen,  by  the  order  of  the  Emperor 
Julian,  set  about  the  task  of  rebuilding  that  edifice. 
The  fact  is  stated  by  a  contemporary  heathen  writer 
of  good  repute,  Ammianus  Marcellinus.  Notwithstand¬ 
ing  the  grave  historical  difficulties  which  have  been 
suggested  by  Lardner  and  others,  it  seems  most  reason¬ 
able  to  conclude  that  some  startling  phenomenon  of 
the  kind  actually  occurred.  Neander  says,  “  A  sign 
coming  from  God  is  here  certainly  not  to  be  mistaken, 
although  natural  causes  also  co-operated.”1  Guizot,  in 
his  notes  on  Gibbon,  explains  the  occurrence  by  refer¬ 
ring  it  to  the  explosion  of  the  subterranean  gases 
suddenly  liberated  by  the  workmen.  Although  the 
admission  of  a  miracle  in  such  a  case  detracts  nothing 
from  the  peculiar  function  and  evidential  force  of  the 
miracles  of  Scripture,  we  cannot  feel  obliged  to  call  in 

1  Church  History,  vol.  ii.  pp.  69,  TO. 


HEATHEN  AND  ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES  299 


here  supernatural  agency.  Natural  causes  of  a  physical 
nature,  together  with  the  fears  and  fancies  of  the 
laborers,  and  the  exaggerating  imagination  of  reporters, 
suffice  to  explain  the  alarm  that  was  created,  and  the 
cessation  of  the  work. 

The  standing  argument  at  the  present  day  against 
the  credibility  of  the  evangelists  is  the  precedent 
afforded  by  the  biographers  of  “the  saints,”  and  of  the 
incredible  marvels  which  they  mingle  with  authentic 
history.  To  some  it  is  no  matter  of  surprise  that  the 
apostles  should  be  utterly  deceived  in  this  branch  of 
their  testimony.  Thus  Matthew  Arnold  boldly  admits, 
that,  if  we  had  the  original  reports  of  eye-witnesses, 
we  should  not  have  a  miracle  less  than  we  have  now.1 
Very  different  is  the  judgment  of  a  great  historical 
scholar,  Niebuhr.  He  refers  to  the  critical  spirit  in 
which  he  had  come  to  the  study  of  the  New  Testa¬ 
ment  histories  and  to  the  imperfections  which  he  be¬ 
lieved  himself  to  find  in  them.  He  adds,  “Here,  as 
in  every  historical  subject,  when  I  contemplated  the 
immeasurable  gulf  between  the  narrative  and  the  facts 
narrated,  this  disturbed  me  no  further.  He  whose 
earthly  life  and  sorrows  were  depicted  had  for  me  a 
perfectly  real  existence,  and  his  whole  history  had  the 
same  reality,  even  if  it  were  not  related  with  literal 
exactness  in  any”  single  point.  Hence,  also,  the  funda¬ 
mental  fact  of  miracles,  which,  according  to  my  con¬ 
viction,  must  be  conceded,  unless  we  adopt  the  not 
merely  incomprehensible  but  absurd  hypothesis,  that 
the  Holiest  was  a  deceiver,  and  his  disciples  either 
dupes  or  liars;  and  that  deceivers  had  preached  a  holy 
religion,  in  which  self-renunciation  is  every  thing,  and 

1  Contemporary  Review,  vol.  xxvi.  p.  697. 


BOO  TIIE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


in  which  there  is  nothing  tending  toward  the  erection 
of  a  priestly  rule,  —  nothing  that  can  be  acceptable 
to  vicious  inclinations.  As  regards  a  miracle  in  the 
strictest  sense,  it  really  onty  requires  an  unprejudiced 
and  penetrating  study  of  nature  to  see  that  those 
related  are  as  far  as  possible  from  absurdity,  and  a 
comparison  with  legends,  or  the  pretended  miracles  oi 
other  religions,  to  perceive  by  what  a  different  spirit 
they  are  animated.”  1 

“  To  'perceive  by  what  a  different  spirit  they  are  ani¬ 
mated  ” —  it  is  just  this  which  Renan  fails  to  see  in  the 
legends  of  the  saints.  It  is  found  impossible  to  dispute 
the  fact,  that  testimony  substantially  equivalent  to  the 
contents  of  the  Gospels  was  given  by  the  apostles. 
The  grand  hypothesis  of  a  post-apostolic  mythology, 
set  up  by  Strauss,  is  given  up.  That  the  apostles  were 
wilful  deceivers,  if  it  be  sometimes  insinuated,  is  felt  to 
be  a  weak  position.  This  old  fortification  of  unbelief  is 
abandoned.  Wliat,  then,  shall  be  said  ?  Why,  answers 
Renan,  they  were,  like  the  followers  of  St.  Francis  of 
Assisi,  credulous,  romantic  enthusiasts.  The  frequency 
with  which  he  reverts  to  the  lives  of  St.  Francis  in¬ 
dicates  what  is  the  real  source  and  prop  of  his  theory 
in  his  own  mind.  It  is  well  to  look  at  this  pretended 
parallel  more  narrowly. 

We  have  two  lives  of  St.  Francis  by  personal  follow¬ 
ers,  —one,  by  Thomas  de  Celano ;  and  another,  by  the 
“  three  companions.”  Another  life  is  from  the  pen  oi 
Bona ventura,  who  was  five  years  old  when  the  saint 
died.2  The  moment  one  takes  up  these  biographies,  he 
finds  himself  in  an  atmosphere  different  from  that  oi 

1  Memoir  of  Niebuhr  (Am.  ed.),  p.  236. 

2  These  lives  are  in  the  Acta  Sanctorum  (ed.  nov.),  vol.  90,  pp.  683 
798. 


HEiTHEN  AND  ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES.  301 


nature  and  real  life.  He  is  transported  into  dream-land. 
Feeling  drowns  perception.  Every  thing  is  suffused 
with  emotion.  We  are  in  an  atmosphere  where  neither 
discriminating  judgment  nor  cool  observation  is  to  be 
looked  for.  Here  is  an  example  of  the  strain  of  eulogy 
in  which  these  disciples  of  St.  Francis,  intoxicated  with 
admiration,  indulge  :  “  Oh,  how  beautiful,  how  splendid, 
how  glorious,  he  appeared,  in  innocence  of  life  and  in 
simplicity  of  language,  in  purity  of  heart,  in  delight  in 
God,  in  fraternal  love,  in  odorous  obedience,  in  com¬ 
plaisant  devotedness,  in  angelic  aspect !  Sweet  in  man¬ 
ners,  placid  in  nature,  affable  in  speech,  most  apt  in 
exhortation,  most  faithful  in  trusts,  prudent  in  counsel, 
efficient  in  action,  gracious  in  all  things,  serene  in  mind, 
sweet  in  spirit,  sober  in  temper,  steadfast  in  contempla¬ 
tion,  persevering  in  esteem,  and  in  all  things  the  same, 
swift  to  show  favor,  slow  to  anger,”  etc.1  This  is  only 
one  of  the  outbursts  of  ecstatic  admiration  for  “  the  morn¬ 
ing  star,”  the  luminary  umore  radiant  than  the  sun,” 
in  which  these  chroniclers  break  out.  When  we  turn 
to  the  saint  who  is  the  object  of  all  this  fervor,  we 
find  in  his  character,  to  be  sure,  much  to  respect.  There 
is  “sweetness  and  light;”  but  the  light  is  by  far  the 
minor  factor.  The  practice  of  asceticism  rendered  his 
bodily  state  at  all  times  abnormal  and  unhealthy.  To 
lie  on  the  ground,  with  a  log  for  a  pillow ;  to  deny  him¬ 
self  the  refreshment  of  sleep  when  it  was  most  needed ; 
to  choose,  on  principle,  the  coarsest  food,  and  to  insist 
on  its  being  cooked,  if  cooked  at  all,  in  a  way  that 
made  it  as  unpalatable  and  indigestible  as  possible ;  to 
weep  every  day  so  copiously  that  his  eyesight  was 
nearly  destroyed,  and  then,  as  always  when  he  was  ill, 
to  take  remedies  with  great  reluctance,  if  he  took  them 

1  Acta  Sanctorum,  ut  sup.,  p  716. 


B02  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


at  all  —  these  customs  were  not  favorable  to  sanity  of 
mental  action  any  more  than  to  soundness  of  body. 
They  co-existed  with  attractive  virtues ;  they  sprang 
from  pure  motives :  but  they  were  none  the  less  ex¬ 
cesses  of  superstition.  Persuaded  on  one  occasion, 
when  he  was  enfeebled  by  illness,  to  eat  of  a  fowl,  he 
demonstrated  his  penitence  by  causing  himself  to  be  led, 
with  a  rope  round  his  neck,  like  a  criminal,  through  the 
streets  of  Assisi,  by  one  of  his  followers,  who  shouted 
all  the  time,  “  Behold  the  glutton  !  ” 

The  sort  of  miracles  ascribed  to  St.  Francis,  and  the 
measure  of  credence  which  the  stories  of  them  deserve, 
may  be  understood  from  what  is  said  of  his  miraculous 
dealing  with  the  lower  animals.  On  a  journey,  leaving 
his  companions  in  the  road,  he  stepped  aside  into  the 
midst  of  a  concourse  of  doves,  crows,  and  other  birds. 
They  were  not  frightened  at  his  approach.  Whereupon 
he  delivered  to  them  a  sermon,  in  which  he  addressed 
them  as  “  my  brother-birds,”  and  gave  them  wholesome 
counsel  —  supposing  them  able  to  comprehend  it  —  re¬ 
specting  their  duties  to  God.  But  we  are  assured  that 
they  did  comprehend  it,  and  signified  their  approbation 
by  stretching  their  necks,  opening  their  mouths,  and  flap¬ 
ping  their  wings.  Having  received  from  the  saint  the 
benediction,  and  permission  to  go,  this  winged  congre¬ 
gation  flew  away.  This  is  only  one  in  a  catalogue  of 
wonders  of  the  same  kind.  Fishes,  as  well  as  birds,  lis¬ 
tened  to  preaching,  and  waited  for  the  discourse  to  con¬ 
clude.  We  can  readily  believe  Celano,  when  he  says 
that  St.  Francis  was  a  man  of  “the  utmost  fervor,”  and 
had  a  feeling  “of  piety  and  gentleness  towards  irrational 
creatures.”  He  was  probably  one  of  those  who  have 
a  remarkable  power  of  dispelling  the  fear,  and  winning 
the  confidence,  of  animals.  Incidents  where  this  natu- 


HEATHEN  AND  ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES.  303 


rai  power  was  exercised  were  magnified,  by  the  fancy 
of  devotees,  into  the  tales  a  sample  of  which  has  been 
given.  A  like  discount  from  other  miraculous  narra¬ 
tives  resting  on  the  same  testimony  would  reduce  the 
events  which  they  relate  to  the  dimensions  of  natural, 
though  it  may  be  remarkable,  occurrences.  It  is  need¬ 
less  to  recount  these  alleged  miracles.  One  or  two  will 
suffice.  Travelling  together,  St.  Francis  and  his  fol¬ 
lowers  see  in  the  road  a  purse,  apparently  stuffed  with 
coins.  There  was  a  temptation  to  pick  it  up.  The 
rule  of  poverty  was  in  imminent  peril.  The  saint 
warns  his  curious  disciple  that  the  devil  is  in  the  purse. 
Finally,  the  disciple,  after  prayer,  is  permitted  to  touch 
it,  when  out  leaps  a  serpent,  and  instantly  —  mirabile 
dictu!  —  serpent  and  purse  vanish.  When  the  saint 
came  to  die,  one  of  his  followers  beheld  his  soul,  as  it 
parted  from  the  body,  in  appearance  like  an  immense 
luminous  star,  shedding  its  radiance  over  many  waters, 
borne  upon  a  white  cloud,  and  ascending  straight  to 
heaven. 

The  great  miracle  in  connection  with  St.  Francis  is 
that  of  the  “  stigmata,”  or  the  marks  of  the  wounds  of 
Christ,  which  the  Saviour  was  thought  in  a  vision  to 
have  imprinted  upon  his  body.  From  the  hour  when  a 
vision  of  the  crucified  Christ  was  vouchsafed  him,  as  he 
thought,  while  he  was  in  prayer  before  his  image,  “  his 
heart,”  say  the  “  tres  socii ,”  was  wounded  and  melted  at 
the  recollection  of  the  Lord’s  passion;  so  that  he  carried 
while  he  lived  the  wounds  —  stigmata  —  of  the  Lord 
Jesus  in  his  heart.  He  sought  in  all  ways  to  be  liter¬ 
ally  conformed  to  the  Lord  as  a  sufferer.  For  example, 
remembering  that  the  Virgin  had  no  place  where  her 
son  could  lay  his  head,  he  would  take  his  food  from  the 
table  where  he  was  dining,  carry  it  out,  and  eat  it  on 


304  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


the  ground.  It  was  liis  constant  effort  to  bring  upon 
himself  the  identical  experiences  of  pain  and  sorrow 
which  befell  Christ.  Especially  did  he  concentrate  hia 
thoughts  in  intense  and  long-continued  meditation  on 
the  crucifixion.  There  is  a  considerable  number  of 
other  instances  of  stigmata  found  upon  the  body,  besides 
that  of  St.  Francis.  The  scientific  solution,  which  has 
high  authority  in  its  favor,  is,  that  the  phenomenon  in 
question  is  the  result  of  the  mental  state  acting  oy  a 
physiological  law  upon  the  body.  It  is  considered  to 
be  one  effect  of  the  mysterious  interaction  of  mind  and 
body,  the  products  of  which,  when  body  and  mind  are 
in  a  morbid  condition,  are  exceptionally  remarkable. 

Before  leaving  our  subject,  let  the  reader  reflect  on 
that  one  trait  of  the  apostles  by  which  they  are  distin¬ 
guished  from  other  witnesses  to  alleged  miracles.  It 
is  their  truthfulness .  Men  may  be  devout ;  they  may  be 
capable  of  exalted  emotions ;  they  may  undertake  works 
of  self-sacrifice,  and  be  revered  for  their  saintly  tem¬ 
pers  ;  and  yet  they  may  lack  this  one  sterling  quality 
on  which  the  worth  of  testimony  depends.  This  defect 
may  not  be  conscious.  It  may  result  from  a  passive, 
uninquiring  temper.  It  may  grow  out  of  a  habit  of 
seeing  things  in  a  hazy  atmosphere  of  feeling,  in  which 
all  things  are  refracted  from  the  right  line.  But  the 
apostles,  unlike  many  devotees  of  even  Christian  ages, 
were  truthful.  Without  this  habit  of  seeing  and  relat¬ 
ing  things  as  they  actually  occurred,  their  writings 
would  never  have  exerted  that  pure  influence  which 
has  flowed  from  them.  Because  they  uttered  “words 
of  truth  and  soberness,”  they  make  those  who  thor¬ 
oughly  sympathize  with  the  spirit  of  their  writings 
value  truth  above  all  things. 


HEATHEN  AND  ECCLESIASTICAL  MIRACLES.  305 


And  there  is  one  proof  of  the  truth  of  the  apostles’ 
testimony  which  can  be  appreciated  by  the  unlearned. 
The  character  of  Jesus  as  he  is  depicted  in  the  Gospels 
is  too  unique  to  be  the  result  of  invention.  It  is  the 
image  of  a  perfection  too  transcendent  to  be  devised 
by  the  wit  of  man.  Yet  it  is  perfectly  self-consistent, 
and  obviously  real  in  all  its  traits.  In  him  the  natural 
and  the  supernatural,  divine  authority  and  human  feel¬ 
ing,  the  power  which  gives  life  to  the  dead  and  the 
sympathy  which  expresses  itself  in  tears,  blend  in  com¬ 
plete  accord.  This  portrait  of  Christ  in  the  Gospels  is 
evidently  drawn  from  the  life.  It  demonstrates  the 
truth  of  the  Gospel  history. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  CHRISTIANITY  FROM  THE  CON¬ 
VERSION  OF  SAUL  OF  TARSUS,  WITH  AN  EXAMINA¬ 
TION  OF  RENAN’S  THEORY  OF  THAT  EVENT. 

No  event  in  the  founding  of  Christianity,  which  does 
not  relate  to  the  life  of  Jesus  himself,  is  so  important 
as  the  conversion,  at  a  very  early  day,  of  that  able, 
resolute,  and  zealous  enemy  of  the  Christian  cause, 
Saul  of  Tarsus.  No  one  who  looks  at  his  career,  or 
weighs  the  effect  of  it  on  the  subsequent  history  of  the 
world,  will  doubt,  that,  in  force  of  intellect  and  of  char¬ 
acter,  he  was  one  of  the  greatest  men,  if  not  the  great¬ 
est  man,  of  his  age.  He  was  not  content  to  confine  his 
labors  in  behalf  of  Christianity  within  the  borders  of 
his  own  nation.  He  went  forth  as  a  conqueror  through 
the  Roman  Empire,  to  convert  the  heathen.  He  made 
his  way  to  Athens,  there  to  reason  with  philosophers, 
and  preach  to  the  people.  He  aspired  to  preach  in 
Rome  itself,  not  heeding  the  contempt  that  his  doctrine 
would  excite.  He  had  the  courage  to  face  mobs  at 
Jerusalem  and  at  Ephesus;  to  be  persecuted  by  his 
cwn  countrymen  as  a  heretic,  and  by  Gentiles  as  an 
atheist.  No  bodily  hardship  or  peril  discouraged  him. 
No  rebuff  disheartened  him.  He  had  the  independence 
to  withstand  Peter,  the  leader  among  the  original  dis¬ 
ciples,  when  he  gave  way  to  timidity.  No  man  ever 
afforded  more  signal  proofs  of  independence  of  thought 
and  of  judgment.  He  was  acquainted  with  the  eye- 

306 


THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  THE  CONVERSION  OF  PAUL.  C07 


witnesses  who  had  lived  with  Jesus  from  the  beginning 
of  his  public  ministry.  He  conferred  with  them.  He 
inquired  of  them  as  to  what  they  had  seen.  Seven 
years  after  the  crucifixion,  he  spent  a  fortnight  with 
Peter  at  Jerusalem.  He  was  of  the  school  of  the 
Pharisees.  All  his  prepossessions  were  against  the 
claims  of  Jesus.  He  embarked  in  a  determined  effort 
to  crush  the  Christian  cause,  yet  from  a  fanatical 
enemy  he  was  transformed  to  an  enthusiastic  follower 
and  servant  of  Jesus.  The  adhesion  of  so  independent 
and  thoughtful  and  inquisitive  a  man  ;  of  a  man  having 
access  to  direct  means  of  information  respecting  J esus ; 
of  a  man  who  had  fixed  prejudices  to  overcome ;  of  a 
man  whose  espousal  of  the  Christian  cause  cost  him, 
as  he  knew  it  would,  all  that  men  generally  hold  dear ; 
of  a  man  who  proved  the  depth  and  sincerity  of  his 
faith  by  a  life  full  of  heroic  exertions  and  sufferings, 
and  by  a  martyr’s  death, — the  adhesion  of  such  a  man 
is  itself  an  argument  for  the  verity  of  the  claims 
which  Christianity  made.  Saul  of  Tarsus,  one  so  quick- 
sighted,  and  at  the  same  time  reflective,  was  convinced 
of  the  truth  of  the  gospel.  From  a  zealous  foe  he 
became  an  intrepid  advocate.  Was  he  deceived? 

The  circumstances  of  his  conversion,  when,  after 
having  taken  part  in  the  slaying  of  Stephen,  he  was  on 
the  road  to  Damascus  to  persecute  the  disciples  of  Jesus 
there,  are  familiar.  Unless  he  was  altogether  mistaken, 
a  miracle  occurred;  not  a  miracle  that  superseded  a 
moral  decision  on  his  part,  for  he  might  have  been 
“disobedient  unto  the  heavenly  vision,”  but  still  a 
miracle.  How  shall  the  phenomena  which  occurred  on 
that  occasion  be  otherwise  explained? 

We  have  the  naturalistic  solution.  It  was  an  in¬ 
stance  of  hallucination.  Renan,  combining  the  ideas  of 


B08  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

Strauss,  and  of  Baur  in  his  earlier  treatment  of  the 
subject,  with  speculations  of  his  own,  has  drawn  out 
the  theory.1 2  Paul  was  on  his  persecuting  journey,  his 
brain  highly  excited,  at  times  violently  so.  Passionate 
natures  fly  from  one  belief  to  the  opposite.  When 
at  one  extreme,  they  are  never  far  from  the  other. 
TLey  are  almost  ready  to  love  what  they  hate.  Was 
he  sure  that  he  was  not  withstanding  a  work  of  God  ?  3 
The  more  he  knew  the  good  sectaries,  the  more  he 
loved  them.  At  certain  moments  he  seemed  to  see  the 
sweet  figure  of  the  Master  looking  on  him  with  tender 
reproach.  Tales  of  apparitions  of  Jesus,  which  the  dis¬ 
ciples  had  told,  occurred  to  him.  He  drew  near  the 
city.  The  odious  role  of  an  executioner  became  more 
and  more  insupportable  to  him.  He  appears  to  have 
had  inflamed  eyes,  perhaps  incipient  ophthalmia.  Sud¬ 
den  fevers  are  an  incident  of  journeys  in  that  region. 
One  will  be  suddenly  struck  (, foudroye ),  plunged  into 
darkness  traversed  by  flashes  of  light,  where  he  will  see 
images  traced  on  the  black  ground.  It  is  not  unlikely 
that  there  was  a  thunder-storm.  The  strongest  minds 
are  dismayed  by  the  roar  of  the  tempests  on  the  sides  * 
of  Mount  Hermon.  Jews  looked  on  thunder  as  the 
voice  of  God;  on  lightning,  as  the  flame  of  God.  Paul 
thought  that  what  he  heard  in  his  own  heart  was  the 
voice  of  the  storm.  It  was  a  feverish  delirium,  caused 
by  a  sunstroke  or  by  ophthalmia.  Paul,  we  know,  was 
subject  to  visions.  He  now  fancied  himself  to  see  Jesus, 
and  hear  his  voice.  The  thought  of  Stephen  flashed 
on  him :  “  he  saw  himself  covered  with  his  blood.”  All 
that  occurred  afterwards  in  connection  with  Ananias 

1  Les  Apotres,  p.  175  seq. 

2  A  few  pages  before  (p.  172),  Renan  doubts  whether  Paul  ever  knew 

Gamaliel. 


THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  THE  CONVERSION  OF  PAUL.  30 G 


was  another  series  of  hallucinations  and  delusions. 
Ananias  spoke  gently  to  him,  laid  his  hands  on  him. 
He  was  calmed.  He  believed  himself  healed ;  “  and, 
the  malady  being  entirely  nervous,  he  was.” 

This  jumble  of  contradictory  guesses,  most  of  which 
are  directly  belied  by  the  known  facts,  is  called  “the 
scientific  explanation  ”  of  the  Apostle  Paul’s  conver¬ 
sion.  It  implies  throughout  that  he  lacked  common 
sense.  He  mistook  the  occurrences  of  a  thunder-storm 
for  a  supernatural  address,  in  articulate  speech,  to  him¬ 
self.  He  knew  so  little  of  physical  disorders  (which 
are  represented,  however,  as  being  very  common  in 
the  region  where  he  was),  that  he  mistook  a  sunstroke 
for  a  perception  of  Christ.  The  main  point  to  consider, 
and  the  only  point  worthy  of  consideration,  in  this 
cobweb  of  conjectures,  is  whether  there  was  in  the 
mind  of  Paul  the  psychological  condition  out  of  which 
hallucination  can  naturally  spring.  Nothing  need  *be 
said  of  the  extraordinary  postulate,  that  strong  natures 
—  men,  be  it  observed,  who  are  strong  in  intellect,  as 
well  as  fervent  in  emotion  —  are  ready  at  any  time  to 
jump  over  to  an  opposite  conviction.  A  Loyola,  we  are 
to  believe,  very  easily  turns  into  a  Luther;  a  Crom¬ 
well,  into  a  Laud ;  and  it  must  be  a  matter  of  surprise 
that  Paul,  in  the  thirty  years  or  more  that  followed  his 
conversion,  in  which  he  attacked  the  Judaizing  spirit, 
did  not  oscillate  back  again  to  Pharisaism. 

But  did  Paul  have  any  of  the  compunction,  any  of 
the  misgivings  and  of  the  hesitation,  about  the  recti¬ 
tude  of  the  course  he  was  pursuing,  which  Renan's 
romance  ascribes  to  him  ?  Not  only  is  there  not  a 
particle  of  proof  that  he  had,  there  is  decisive  proof 
to  the  contrary.  The  figure  of  the  “  pricks  ”  against 
whicli  it  was  vain  for  him  to  kick1  was  taken  from  the 


1  Acts  xxvi.  14. 


810  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEIST1C  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


goad  used  to  spur  forward  oxen.  The  meaning  is,  that 
his  opposition  to  the  Christian  cause  would  be  of  no 
avail.  He  was  forgiven  for  persecuting,  he  says,  be¬ 
cause  he  udid  it  ignorantly,  in  unbelief.”  “J  verily 
thought  with  myself he  declares,  “that  I  ought  to  do 
many  things  contrary  to  the  name  of  Jesus  of  Naza* 
reth.”  1  The  notion  that  he  was  trying  to  drown  the 
rebukes  of  conscience  is  a  pure  fiction,  contradicted  by 
Paul’s  own  declarations  and  by  all  the  facts  in  the  case. 
There  was  no  place,  then,  for  hallucination,  an  imagi¬ 
nary  sight  of  the  reproving  look  of  Jesus,  and  a  hearing 
of  reproaches  from  his  voice.  The  superstructure  falls 
with  the  foundation  on  which  it  is  reared. 

But  is  the  occurrence  on  the  road  to  Damascus  to 
be  considered  “a  vision”  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the 
term  in  the  New  Testament?  If  it  were  this,  its  real¬ 
ity  would  not  be  disproved,  unless  it  were  first  assumed 
that  God  could  not  or  would  not  thus  communicate 
with  men.  There  is  not  even  this  ground,  however, 
for  the  naturalistic  hypothesis  to  retreat  to.  It  is  true 
that  Paul,  at  various  times  after  his  conversion,  refers 
to  visions  which  he  had.  But  he  does  not  put  his  con¬ 
version  among  them.  The  vision  to  which  he  refers  in 
2  Cor.  xii.  1-4  occurred  six  or  seven  years  after  his 
conversion.  The  whole  description  of  this  vision,  and 
of  the  ecstatic  state  in  which  he  was,  and  of  the  incom¬ 
municable  things  which  he  heard,  shows  how  dissimilar 
it  was  from  his  experience  on  the  road  to  Damascus. 
A  vision  (opapa)  was,  and  was  known  to  be,  something 
quite  distinct  from  an  affection  of  the  outward  senses.2 
Moreover,  Paul  distinguishes  the  sight  which  he  had 
of  Jesus  from  visions,  and  ranks  it  with  that  direct 
perception  of  him  whnh  the  apostles  had  on  different 


1  Acts  xxvi.  9. 


2  See  Acts  xii.  9. 


THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  THE  CONVERSION  OF  PAUL  311 


occasions  after  the  resurrection.  He  says,1  “  Last  of  all 
he  was  seen  of  me,”  etc.  That  one  interview  stood 
by  itself.  It  was  a  conviction  of  the  untenableness  of 
the  naturalistic  solution  which  led  Baur,  in  his  later 
days,  to  say  of  Paul,  that  “  neither  psychological  nor 
dialectical  analysis  can  explore  the  mystery  of  the  act 
in  which  God  revealed  to  him  his  Son.”  2  Baur  even 
says  that  in  the  conversion  of  Paul,  uin  his  sudden 
transformation  from  the  most  vehement  adversary  into 
the  most  resolute  herald  of  Christianity,  we  can  see 
nothing  short  of  a  miracle  (  Wunder ).”  Keim,  an  inde¬ 
pendent  representative  of  the  same  school,  affirms  the 
objective  reality  of  the  manifestation  of  Jesus  to  Paul. 
He  appeals  to  the  passage  already  referred  to  (1  Cor. 
xv.  8),  and  the  context.  “  The  whole  character  of 
Paul;  his  sharp  understanding,  which  was  not  weak¬ 
ened  by  his  enthusiasm;  the  careful,  cautious,  measured, 
simple  form  of  his  statement ;  above  all,  the  favorable 
total  impression  of  his  narrative,  and  the  mighty  echo 
of  it  in  the  unanimous,  uncontradicted  faith  of  primi¬ 
tive  Christendom,”  —  are  the  considerations  on  which 
Keim  rests  his  belief.3  The  deeper  criticism  of  the 
Teutonic  mind,  even  when  under  a  naturalistic  bias, 
halts  at  a  point  where  Gallican  scepticism  does  not 
“  fear  to  tread.” 

The  external  miracle  is  not  to  be  looked  at  apart 
from  the  spiritual  miracle  to  which  it  led,  ai  d  which 
attended  it.  There  was  a  transformation  of  character 
involving  a  totally  new  view  and  interpretation  of  the 
Old  Testament  religion.  The  superficialness  of  Renan 
in  his  treatment  of  these  themes  is  illustrated  in  his 

1  1  Cor.  xv.  8. 

2  Das  Christenthum  d.  drei  ersten  Jahrhh.  (2d  ed.),  p.  45. 

8  See  Schaff,  in  The  Princeton  Review,  March,  1883,  p.  163. 


312  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


dealing  with  this  topic.  Paul,  he  would  have  us  be¬ 
lieve,  was  not  essentially  altered.  “Ardent  men  change, 
but  are  not  transformed.”  All  that  he  did,  was  to 
alter  the  direction  of  his  fanaticism :  it  was  directed 
against  another  object.  How  any  sober-minded  critic 
can  read  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  the  First  Epistle  to 
the  Corinthians,  where  the  apostle’s  fervor  in  the  depict¬ 
ing  of  love  lifts  his  style  to  a  rhythmical  flow,  and 
still  say  that  it  is  the  same  man  who  “made  havoc” 
of  the  church,  and  “breathed  out  threatenings  and 
slaughter,”  it  is  hard  to  see.  That  the  apostle’s  native 
talents  and  dispositions  did  not  forsake  him  when  a 
new  spirit  entered  into  his  heart,  is,  of  course,  true. 
Along  with  this  moral  and  spiritual  renewal,  and  as  a 
part  of  it,  was  a  conviction  of  personal  unworthiness 
and  condemnation.  Righteousness  —  a  right  or  justi¬ 
fied  position  before  God  —  he  saw  to  be  impossible 
under  the  law-method.  The  law  went  too  deep :  his 
heart  and  will  were  too  far  at  variance  with  its  exac¬ 
tions.  Thus  he  saw  that  the  Old-Testament  system 
was  only  preparatory  to  the  gospel  of  free  forgiveness. 
Baur  is  right  in  saying  that  the  perception  by  Paul  that 
the  death  of  Jesus,  which  was  the  stumbling-block  to 
such  as  Paul  in  the  way  of  believing  in  him  as  the 
Christ,  no  longer  stood  in  his  way  when  he  saw  that 
death  was  to  Jesus  the  gateway  to  an  exalted  life  and 
to  a  spiritual  reign.  It  is  also  true,  that,  with  this  new 
view  of  the  death  of  Jesus  and  of  his  present  heavenlv 
life  and  reign,  the  carnal  conception  of  God’s  kingdom, 
-with  all  Judaizing  theories  and  prejudices,  vanished. 
Christianity  was  seen  to  be  equally  for  all.  “  There  is 
no  difference  between  the  Jew  and  the  Greek.”1  But 

1  This  topic  I  have  considered  in  the  Essays  on  the  Supernatural 
Origin  of  Christianity,  p.  466  seq. 


TIIE  ARGUMENT  FROM  THE  CONVERSION  OF  PAUL.  313 


how  did.  Paul  arrive  at  this  radically  altered  view  of 
the  death  of  Jesus  ?  How  did  he  come  to  look  on  him 
as  having  passed  into  the  heavens  to  reign  there  ? 
How  was  the  prejudice  against  the  idea  of  a  dying  Mes¬ 
siah,  which  had  possessed  his  whole  being,  removed? 
This  result  was  accomplished  by  the  revelation  to  him 
of  Jesus  in  this  heavenly  exaltation.  Thus  the  turn¬ 
ing-point  was  the  event  on  the  road  to  Damascus, 
when,  according  to  his  immovable  conviction,  he  saw 
Christ.  On  this  miracle,  therefore,  the  conversion  of 
Paul  from  a  fanatical  Jew  to  an  ardent  and  life-long 
apostle  of  the  faith  which  he  had  persecuted,  hinged. 
Upon  this  event,  all  that  was  noble  in  his  career,  all 
that  was  beneficent  in  his  work  as  the  principal  founder 
of  Christianity  in  Europe,  all  that  has  flowed  from  his 
writings  and  life  for  the  enlightenment  of  human  souls 
and  the  uplifting  of  societ}^,  depends.  Was  this  event 
a  miserable  mistake  on  his  part,  due  to  a  thunder-clap, 
a  sunstroke,  or  sore  eyes?  Ho  one  who  believes  in 
God  will  be  satisfied  with  such  a  solution. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  CHRISTIANITY  FROM  PROPHECY 
WITH  COMMENTS  ON  THE  THEORY  OF  KUENEN. 

It  appears  to  be  thought  by  many  at  present,  that  the 
argument  for  Christian  revelation  from  prophecy  is  of 
little  weight.  In  treatises  on  Christian  evidences,  it 
has  fallen  into  the  background,  or  has  disappeared  alto¬ 
gether.  By  some  it  would  seem  to  be  considered  an 
objection,  rather  than  a  support,  to  the  Christian  cause. 
This  impression,  which  has  arisen  in  part  from  wrong 
methods  of  interpretation  that  were  formerly  in  vogue, 
has  no  real  foundation.  On  the  contrary,  prophecy, 
looked  at  in  the  light  of  a  more  scientific  exegesis  and 
a  larger  conception  of  the  nature  of  prophetic  inspira¬ 
tion,  furnishes  a  striking  and  powerful  argument  for 
revelation. 

One  thing  which  modern  theologians  have  learned 
respecting  Hebrew  prophecy  is,  that  prediction  was  not 
the  exclusive,  or  even  the  principal,  constituent  in  the 
prophet’s  function.  The  prophets  were  raised  up  to 
instruct,  rebuke,  warn,  and  comfort  the  Israel  of  their 
own  day.  They  dealt  with  the  exigencies  and  obliga¬ 
tions  of  the  hour.  They  were  the  spokesmen  of  God, 
speaking  to  the  people  by  his  commission,  and  through 
his  Spirit  inspiring  them.  Prediction  was  involved,  both 
as  to  the  near  and  the  distant  future.  But,  as  we  see 
from  the  case  of  the  prophets  of  the  New  Testament 

314 


THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  PROPHECY. 


315 


church  (1  Cor.  xiv.  24,  31),  foretelling  was  not  the 
essential  thing.  The  prophet  was  an  inspired  preacher. 

Another  change  in  the  modern  view  of  prophecy  is 
in  the  perception  of  the  limitations  to  which  the  proph¬ 
ets  were  subject,  as  to  the  extent  and  the  form  cf  their 
vaticinations.  Allegorical  interpretation,  in  the  form, 
for  example,  which  ascribed  to  the  language  of  the 
prophets  a  double  or  multiple  sense  of  which  they  were 
conscious,  or  in  the  form  which  laid  into  their  words  a 
meaning  at  variance  with  their  natural  import,  is  now 
set  aside.  There  is  a  broader  view  taken  of  the  matter. 
The  distinction  between  the  inmost  idea,  the  underly¬ 
ing  truth,  and  the  form  in  which  it  is  conceived,  or  the 
imagery  under  which  it  is  beheld,  by  the  seer,  is  recog¬ 
nized.  The  central  conception  of  the  organic  relation 
of  the  religion  of  the  Old  Testament  to  that  of  the  New, 
the  first  being  rudimental  in  its  whole  character,  and 
thus  in  its  very  nature  predictive,  —  just  as  a  devel¬ 
oped  organism  is  foreshadowed  in  its  lower  forms  or 
stages,  —  illuminates  the  whole  subject.  It  suggests 
the  limitations  of  view  which  must  of  necessity  inhere 
in  prophetical  anticipation,  even  though  it  be  super¬ 
natural  in  its  origin. 

Prediction,  in  order  to  prove  revelation,  must  be 
shown  to  be  truly  pre-diction,  - —  that  is,  to  have  been 
uttered  prior  to  the  event  to  which  it  relates.  On  this 
point,  as  regards  the  Old-Testament  prophecies,  there 
is  no  room  for  reasonable  doubt.1  The  predictions  must 
be  shown  not  to  spring  from  native  sagacity  or  wise  fore¬ 
cast,  based  on  natural  causes  known  to  be  in  operation. 
And  they  must  be  verified  to  an  extent  not  to  be  ex- 

1  As  the  date  of  the  Book  of  Daniel  is  a  controverted  point,  we  leave 
out  of  the  account  its  predictions  as  far  as  they  relate  to  events  prior  to 
the  Maccabean  age. 


316  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


plained  either  by  the  supposition  of  accidental  coinci¬ 
dence,  or  by  supposing  the  effect  to  be  wrought  by  the 
influence  of  the  predictions  themselves. 

If  we  glance  at  the  prophets  as  they  present  them¬ 
selves  to  our  view  on  the  pages  of  the  Old  Testament, 
we  shall  be  helped  to  judge  whether  their  predictions 
~an  endure  the  test  of  these  criteria.1 

A  man  was  not  made  a  prophet  by  virtue  of  any  nat¬ 
ural  talents  that  he  possessed,  or  any  acquired  knowl¬ 
edge.  He  might,  to  be  sure,  be  a  great  poet ;  but  this 
of  itself  did  not  make  him  a  prophet.  The  prophets, 
it  is  true,  were  not  cut  off  from  a  living  relation  to 
their  times.  They  did  not  appear  as  visitors  from 
another  planet.  But  what  the  prophet  had  learned, 
whether  in  “the  schools  of  the  prophets”  (when  such 
existed,  and  if  he  belonged  to  them),  or  from  the  study 
of  the  law,  and  of  other  prophets  who  preceded  him, 
did  not  furnish  him  with  the  message  which  he  deliv¬ 
ered.  He  was  not  like  the  rabbi  or  scribe  of  a  later 
day.2  He  did  not  take  up  his  office  of  his  own  will. 
So  far  from  this,  he  is  conscious  of  being  called  of  God 
by  an  inward  call  which  he  can  not  and  dare  not  resist. 
The  splendid  passage  in  which  Isaiah  recurs  to  the 
vision  in  the  temple,  when  “  the  foundations  of  the 
thresholds  shook,”  and  the  Voice  was  heard  to  say, 
“Whom  shall  I  send?”  shows  the  awe-inspiring  charac¬ 
ter  of  the  divine  call  which  set  the  prophet  apart  for 
his  work  (Isa.  vi.).  The  true  prophet  is  conscious  of 
being  called  to  declare,  not  the  results  of  his  own  in\  ns* 

1  Cf.  Oeliler,  Theologie  d.  Alt.  Test.,  vol.  ii.  p.  170  seq.;  Bleek,  Einl. 
in  d.  Alt.  Test.  (Wellhausen’s  ed.),  p.  305  seq.;  Schultz,  Alt.  Test.  Theo¬ 
logie,  p.  187  seq. ;  Ewald,  Prophets  of  the  Old  Test.  (Engl,  transl.,  Loud., 
1875),  vol.  i. ;  Riehm,  Messianic  Prophecy;  Oehler’s  Arts.  (Prophetis* 
unis  Messias,  Weissgung,  etc.)  in  Herzog’s  Real-Encykl. 

2  Oeliler,  p.  170. 


THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  PROPHECY. 


317 


ligations  or  reflections,  but  the  counsels  and  will  of  the 
Most  High.  He  utters  the  word  of  God.  It  may  be  a 
message  that  runs  counter  to  his  own  preference,  that 
excites  the  deepest  grief  in  his  soul,  that  overcomes 
him  with  surprise  or  terror;  but  he  cannot  keep  silent. 
So  conscious  is  he  that  he  is  not  speaking  out  of  his 
own  heart,  as  do  the  false  prophets,  that  at  times  he  no 
longer  speaks  in  propria  persona  as  the  deputy  of  God : 
God  himself  speaks,  in  the  first  person,  by  his  lips. 
Yet  as  a  rule,  and  especially  in  the  later  and  higher 
stages  of  prophecy,  the  state  of  the  prophet  is  not  that 
of  ecstasy.  He  is  in  full  possession  of  reason  and  con¬ 
sciousness.  He  distinguishes  between  his  own  thoughts 
and  words  and  the  word  of  God.  There  is  no  bewil¬ 
derment.  The  truth  which  he  pours  forth  from  a  soul 
exalted,  yet  not  confused,  by  emotion,  is  not  something 
reasoned  out.  It  is  an  immediate  perception  or  intui¬ 
tion.  He  is  a  seer :  he  hears  or  beholds  that  which  his 
tongue  declares.  The  intuition  of  the  prophet  cannot 
be  resolved  into  a  natural  power  of  divination.  What 
power  of  divination  could  look  forward  to  the  far  re¬ 
mote  consummation  of  the  workings  of  Providence  in 
history?  The  prophets  give  utterance  to  no  instinctive 
presage  of  national  feeling.  Commonly  their  predic¬ 
tions  are  in  the  teeth  of  the  cherished  aspirations  of  the 
people.1 

The  prophets  predicted  events  which  human  foresight 
could  not  anticipate.  Yret  there  is  no  such  correspond¬ 
ence  between  prediction  and  fulfilment,  that  history  is 
written  in  detail  in  advance  of  the  actual  occurrences. 
There  is  no  such  identity  as  to  disturb  the  action  of 
human  free-will,  as  it  would  be  deranged  if  every  thing 
that  man  were  to  do  and  to  sufife:  in  the  future  were 


1  Oehler,  p.  196. 


818  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


mapped  out  before  his  eyes.  Moreover,  the  conditions 
under  which  the  ideas  given  to  the  prophet  necessarily 
shape  themselves  in  his  thought  and  imagination  — 
which  may  be  called  the  human  side  of  prophecy  — 
give  rise  to  a  greater  or  less  disparity  between  the 
mode  of  the  prediction  and  the  mode  of  fulfilment. 
This  will  constitute  an  objection  to  the  reality  of  proph¬ 
ecy,  only  to  those  who  cannot  break  through  the  shell, 
and  penetrate  to  the  kernel  within  it.  On  this  topic 
Ewald  writes  as  follows :  — 

“  A  projected  picture  of  the  future  is  essentially  a  presentiment, 
a  surmise;  i.e.,  an  attempt  and  effort  of  the  peering  spirit  to  form 
from  the  basis  of  a  certain  truth  a  definite  idea  of  the  form  the 
future  will  take,  and  to  pierce  through  the  veil  of  the  unseen  :  it 
is  not  a  description  of  the  future  with  those  strict  historical  lines 
which  will  characterize  it  when  it  actually  unfolds  itself.  The 
presentiment  or  foreboding  advances  at  once  to  the  general  scope 
and  great  issue.  Before  the  prophet  who  is  justly  foreboding  evil, 
there  rises  immediately  the  vision  of  destruction  as  the  final  pun¬ 
ishment  ;  but  probably  this  does  not  come  to  pass  immediately,  or 
only  partially;  and  yet  the  essential  truth  of  the  threat  remains  as 
long  as  the  sins  which  provoked  it  continue,  whether  it  be  executed 
sooner  or  later.  Or  when  the  gaze  of  the  prophet,  eager  from 
joyous  hope  or  sacred  longing,  dwells  on  the  consideration  of  the 
so-called  Messianic  age,  this  hovers  before  him  as  coming  soon  and 
quickly ;  what  he  clearly  sees  appearing  to  him  as  near  at  hand. 
But  the  development  of  events  shows  how  many  hinderances  still 
stand  in  the  way  of  the  longed-for  and  surmised  consummation, 
which  again  and  again  vanishes  from  the  face  of  the  present: 
aevertheless,  the  pure  truth  that  the  consummation  will  come,  and 
must  come  precisely  under  the  conditions  foretold  by  the  prophet, 
remains  unchangeably  the  same ;  it  retains  its  force  during  every 
newr  period,  and  from  time  to  time  some  part  of  the  great  hope 
finds  its  fulfilment.  Further :  the  presentiment  endeavors  to  deline¬ 
ate  its  subject-matter  with  the  greatest  clearness  and  definiteness, 
and,  in  order  to  describe  really  unseen  things,  borrows  the  compari¬ 
sons  and  illustrations  that  are  at  hand  from  the  past  and  popular 
ideas.  To  set  forth  the  presentiment  of  evil,  there  occurs  the 


THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  PROPHECY. 


319 


memory  of  Sodom,  or  all  the  terrible  things  of  nature ;  whilst  for 
bright  hope  and  aspiration,  there  is  the  memory  of  Mosaic  and 
Davidic  times.  But  the  prophet  does  not  really  intend  to  say  that 
only  the  things  that  occurred  in  Sodom,  and  under  Moses  and 
David,  will  recur,  or  that  mere  earthquakes  and  tempests  will 
happen;  but,  using  these  comparisons,  he  means  something  far 
higher.”  1 

The  prophet,  beholding  things  future  as  if  present, 
may  leap  over  long  intervals  of  time.  Events  may 
appear  to  him  near  at  hand  which  are  really  distant. 
Thus,  in  Isaiah,  the  Messianic  era  follows  immediately 
on  the  liberation  of  the  Israelites  from  captivity. 
Round  numbers  may  be  used,  —  numbers  having  only 
a  symbolical  significance.2  Events  may  be  grouped  ac¬ 
cording  to  the  causal  rather  than  the  temporal  relation 
between  them. 

On  this  matter  of  chronology,  Ewald  lias  suggestive 
lomarks :  — 

“  The  prophetic  presentiment,  finally,  endeavoring  in  certain 
distressing  situations  to  peer  still  more  closely  into  the  future,  ven¬ 
tures  even  to  fix  terms  and  periods  for  the  development  of  the 
events  which  are  foreseen  as  certain ;  yet  all  these  more  definite 
limitations  and  calculations  are  so  many  essays  of  a  peculiar  class, 
to  be  conceived  of  and  judged  by  their  own  nature  and  from  the 
motive  that  produced  them,  to  say  nothing  of  the  fact  that  every 
thing  that  the  prophet  threatens  or  promises  is  conditioned  by  the 
reception  which  his  advice  and  command,  indeed,  which  his  sup¬ 
pressed  yet  necessary  and  of  themselves  clear  presuppositions,  meet 
with.  Accordingly,  the  prophetic  picture  in  the  end  is  not  to  be 
judged  by  its  garments,  but  by  the  meaning  of  the  thoughts  and 
demands  which  is  hidden  within  it ;  and  it  would  be  a  source  of 
constant  misconception  to  conceive  of  and  judge  picture  and  pre¬ 
sentiment  otherwise  than  in  accordance  with  their  own  peculiar 
life  and  nature.  Jerusalem  was  not  destroyed  so  soon  as  Micah 
(ch.  i.-iii.)  foreboded :  nevertheless,  inasmuch  as  the  same  causes 

1  Ewald’s  Prophets  of  the  Old  Testament,  vol.  1.  p.  36. 

2  Oehler,  p.  205. 


820  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


which  provoked  that  presentiment  were  not  radically  removed,  the 
destruction  did  not  ultimately  fail  to  come.  Literally,  Jerusalem 
was  neither  besieged  nor  delivered  exactly  as  Isaiah  (ch.  xxix.) 
foresaw :  still,  as  he  had  foreseen,  the  city  w7as  exposed  during  his 
lifetime  to  the  greatest  danger,  and  experienced  essentially  as 
wonderful  a  deliverance.  In  the  calculations  (Isa.  xxxii.  14  seq,, 
Comp.  v.  10,  xxix.  1-8,  and  especially  v.  17),  if  the  words  are  taken 
slavishly,  there  lies  a  minor  contradiction,  which,  with  a  freei  com¬ 
parison  of  all  the  pictures  as  they  might  exist  before  the  mind  of 
the  prophet,  it  is  granted,  quickly  disappears.  The  punishment  of 
Israel  (Ilos.  ii.)  consists  in  expulsion  into  the  wilderness;  (ch.  iii. 
seq.)  it  consists  rather  in  other  things,  e.g.,  in  being  driven  away 
to  Assyria  and  Egypt.  Yet  all  these  presentiments  were  equally 
possible,  and  contain  no  contradiction,  unless  they  are  confounded 
with  historical  assertions  or  even  express  commands.  As  appears 
from  Jer.  xxvi.  1-19,  at  this  period  of  Jewish  history  a  correct 
feeling  of  the  true  meaning  of  prophetic  utterances  in  this  respect 
was  still  in  existence,  and  they  were  not  so  misunderstood  as  they 
were  in  the  middle  ages,  and  as  they  still  are  in  many  quarters.” 1 

Closely  related  to  tlie  partial  indifference  to  mere 
chronological  relations  which  is  seen,  for  example, 
in  what  is  termed  “the  perspective  of  prophecy,”  is 
another  feature,  —  that  of  the  gradual  fulfilment,  the 
preliminary  and  the  completed  verification,  of  predic¬ 
tions.  Glowing  ideals  stir  the  soul  of  the  prophet. 
The  realization  of  them  he  may  connect  with  personages 
already  living  or  soon  to  appear,  and  with  conditions 
with  which  he  is  conversant  In  the  ways  anticipated 
by  him.  they  have  in  truth  a  verification,  but  one  that 
fails  far  short  of  the  prophetic  vision.  The  accordance 
is  real,  but  only  up  to  a  certain  point :  the  discordance 
is  too  great  to  be  removed  by  treating  the  prediction 
as  an  hyperbole.  Hence  the  full  verification  is  still 
looked  for ;  and  it  comes.  The  development  of  the 
teligion  of  Israel  brings  in  the  complete  realization 

1  Ewald,  p.  37. 


THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  PROPHECY. 


321 


of  the  grand  idea  which  floated  before  the  prophet’s 
mind.  This  is  not  a  novel  theory  of  prophecy,  pecul¬ 
iar  to  our  day.  Lord  Bacon  speaks  of  “  that  latitude 
which  is  agreeable  and  familiar  unto  divine  prophecies’; 
being  of  the  nature  of  their  author,  with  whom  a  thou¬ 
sand  years  are  but  as  one  day;  and  are  therefore  not 
fulfilled  punctually  at  once,  but  have  springing  and 
germinant  accomplishment  throughout  many  ages ,  though 
the  height  or  fulness  of  them  may  refer  to  some  one 
age 1  The  mind  of  the  seer  or  psalmist  was  illuminat¬ 
ed,  so  that  the  plan  of  Jehovah  in  the  ordering  of  the 
past  course  of  Israel’s  history,  and  the  real  import  of 
the  present  conjunction  of  circumstances,  were  unveiled 
to  his  mind.  From  this  point  of  view,  he  glanced  for¬ 
ward,  and,  illuminated  still  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  he 
beheld  the  future  unfold  itself,  —  not,  to  be  sure,  as  tc 
the  eye  of  the  Omniscient,  but  under  the  limitations 
nnposed  by  finite  powers  acting  within  a  restricted  en¬ 
vironment.  For  prophetic  inspiration  is  no  operation 
of  magic.  An  apostle  represents  the  prophets  as 
seeking  earnestly  to  get  at  the  meaning  of  their  own 
prophecies,  —  “  searching  what,  or  what  manner  of  time, 
the  Spirit  of  Christ  which  was  in  them  did  signify,” 
etc.2 

The  Old-Testament  prophecies  fall  into  two  classes. 
The  first  embraces  the  predictions  of  a  Messianic  char¬ 
acter,  especially  those  relating  to  the  kingdom  and  the 
spread  of  it.  The  second  includes  prophecies  of  par¬ 
ticular  occurrences. 

We  begin  with  the  first  class  of  predictions.  The 
prophets  look  forward  to  a  great  salvation  in  the  future, 
a  period  of  rest  and  blessedness  for  the  people.3  Some* 

1  The  Advancement  of  Learning,  b.  ii.  (Spedding’s  ed.,  vi  ?00). 

2  1  Pet.  i.  11.  8  Cf.  Bleek,  p.  329. 


822  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIO  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


times  this  redemption  is  depicted  as  a  great  triumph 
over  all  the  enemies  of  Israel,  when  the  state  appears 
in  unexampled  glory  and  splendor ;  the  land  yielding 
abundant  fruits,  and  all  divine  blessings  being  showered 
upon  its  inhabitants.  In  other  prophecies  the  predomi¬ 
nant  feature  is  the  moral:  it  is  the  forgiveness  of 
sin,  the  prevalence  of  holiness  and  righteousness,  on 
which  the  eye  is  fixed.  Sometimes  the  great  redemp¬ 
tion  is  foreseen  as  a  gift  to  the  seed  of  Abraham,  the 
nation  of  Israel.  But  in  other  places  the  prophets 
take  a  wider  view,  and  describe  the  heathen  nations  as 
sharing  in  the  blessing,  and  the  kingdom  as  extending 
over  the  whole  earth.  Now  the  Redeemer  is  Jehovah 
himself;  now  the  hope  centres  in  a  particular  mon¬ 
arch,  or  on  a  class  by  whom  the  grand  deliverance  is  to 
be  achieved;  and  again  it  is  a  person  to  appear  in 
the  future,  a  ruler  of  the  family  of  David.  The  house 
of  David  is  chosen  to  carry  the  kingdom  to  its  con¬ 
summation  :  it  stands  in  the  relation  of  sonsliip  to 
God.  Then  there  is  a  limitation :  the  great  promise  is 
to  be  realized  from  among  the  sons  of  David.  Finally, 
the  prophetic  eye  fastens  its  gaze  upon  an  individual  in 
the  dim  future ;  as  in  Ps.  ii.,  where  the  whole  earth 
owns  the  sway  of  the  king,  who  is  the  Son  of  God ;  in 
Ps.  lxxii.,  where  the  coming  and  universal  sway  of 
the  Prince  of  peace,  and  the  succor  afforded  by  him  to 
the  needy  and  distressed,  are  described ;  and  in  Ps.  cx., 
in  which  the  conqueror  of  the  earth  unites  with  the 
kingly  office  that  of  an  everlasting  priesthood,  - - 
a  priesthood  not  of  the  Levitical  order.1  Elsewhere 
(Isa.  liii.)  the  great  deliverance  is  expected  through  a 
suffering  “servant  of  Jehovah,”  who  dies  not  for  his 
Dwn  sins,  but  for  the  sins  of  the  people.  First,  the 

i  Cf.  Oehler,  ii.  258. 


THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  PROPHECY. 


323 


'‘servant  of  Jehovah”  is  spoken  of  as  Israel  collec¬ 
tively  taken,  then  as  the  holy  and  faithful  class  among 
the  people ;  and  finally,  in  this  remarkable  chapter, 
there  is,  not  improbably,  a  farther  step  in  individual¬ 
izing  the  conception :  and  a  single  personage,  in  whum 
all  the  qualities  of  the  ideal  “  servant  ”  combine  in  a 
faultless  image,  rises  before  the  mind  of  the  seer. 

This  glimpse  of  the  most  general  outlines  of  Old- 
Testament  prophecy  cannot  but  deeply  impress  one 
who  has  any  just  appreciation  of  the  religion  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  of  Christendom  even  as  it  now  is,  to  say 
nothing  of  what  may,  not  unreasonably,  be  expected  in 
the  future.  Under  these  different  phases  of  prediction, 
there  is  one  grand  expectation,  viz.,  that  the  religion  of 
Israel  will  itself  be  perfected,  and  will  prevail  on  the 
earth.  Follow  back  the  course  of  prophecy,  and  you 
find  traces  of  this  expectation  —  either  sublime  in  the 
extreme,  or  foolhardy  in  the  extreme,  as  the  event 
should  prove  —  in  the  earliest  records  of  Hebrew  his¬ 
tory.  Concede  all  that,  with  any  show  of  reason,  can 
be  said  about  the  variety  in  the  ideals  and  anticipations 
of  the  Hebrew  prophets,  there  remains  enough  of  corre¬ 
spondence  to  them  in  the  origin,  character,  and  progress 
of  Christianity,  to  suggest  a  problem  not  easy  to  be 
solved  on  any  naturalistic  hypothesis.  Grant  that  the 
prophets  had  an  intense  conviction  of  the  reality  of 
Jehovah,  of  his  power,  and  of  his  right  to  rule.  This 
conviction,  be  it  remembered,  is  itself  to  be  accounted 
for ;  but,  taking  this  for  granted,  we  find  in  it  no  ade¬ 
quate  means  of  explaining  the  confident  declaration, 
that  “the  earth  shall  be  filled  with  the  knowledge  of 
the  glory  of  the  Lord  as  the  waters  cover  the  sea.”1 
Why  should  they  not  have  stopped  with  the  anticipa- 

1  Ilab.  ii.  14;  cf.  Oehler,  ii.  196. 


824  TEE  GROUNDS  OF  THE1STIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


fcion  of  the  downfall  and  destruction  of  the  Pagan 
nations?  Plow  could  they  tell  that  from  Judaea  a  uni¬ 
versal  kingdom  should  take  its  rise  ? 1  How  could  they 
overcome  the  obstacles  to  such  an  anticipation  which 
the  actual  course  of  history,  as  it  was  going  forward 
under  their  eyes,  appeared  to  involve  ? 

Let  the  reader  imagine,  that,  twenty-five  or  thirty 
centuries  ago,  the  mountain  cantons  of  Switzerland 
were  inhabited  by  tribes  insignificant  in  numbers  and 
strength,  while  extensive  and  powerful  empires,  like 
ancient  Rome  after  the  conquest  of  Carthage  and  the 
East,  or  modern  Russia,  are  on  their  borders.  Suppose 
that  the  people  thus  imagined  to  exist  had  a  religion 
unique,  and  distinct  from  that  of  all  other  nations.  Yet 
even  in  times  when  their  little  territory  is  ravaged  by 
vast  armies,  and  the  bulk  of  its  population  dragged 
off  into  slavery,  there  arise  among  them  men,  who,  with 
all  the  energy  of  confidence  of  which  the  human  mind 
is  capable,  declare  that  their  religion  will  become  uni¬ 
versal,  that  it  will  supersede  the  gorgeous  idolatries  of 
their  conquerors,  that  from  them  will  emerge  a  kingdom 
which  will  overcome,  and  purify  as  it  conquers,  all  the 
other  kingdoms  of  the  world.  And  suppose,  further, 
that  actually,  after  the  lapse  of  centuries,  from  that 
diminutive,  despised  tribe  of  shepherds  and  herdsmen, 
there  does  spring  a  development  of  religion  which 
spreads,  until  it  already  comprehends  all  the  nations 
that  now  profess  Christianity;  there  does  spring  a 
Legislator  and  Guide  of  men,  whose  spiritual  sway  is 
acknowledged  by  hundreds  of  millions,  and  to  the 
progress  of  whose  reign  no  limit  can  be  set :  would  not 
the  correspondence,  or  the  degree  of  correspondence, 
between  those  far-off  predictions  and  the  subsequent 


1  Dan.  vii.  27. 


THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  PkJPHFCY. 


325 


phenomena,  be  a  fact  which  is  nothing  short  of  a 
miracle  ? 

The  second  class  of  prophecies  pertain  to  particular 
occurrences.  In  inquiring  whether  they  were  fulfilled, 
we  have  to  consider  the  obscurity,  which,  notwithstand¬ 
ing  recent  discoveries  in  archaeology,  still  belongs  to 
the  anna.s  of  the  nations  contemporary  with  Israel. 
We  have  to  consider,  moreover,  that  predictions  of  this 
sort  were  never  absolute,  in  the  sense  that  God  might 
not  revoke  a  sentence  in  case  repentance  should  inter¬ 
vene.  The  Book  of  Jonah  —  be  it  history  or  parable  — 
is  designed  partly  to  dispel  the  error  that  a  verdict  of 
God,  because  once  announced,  is  irreversible.  The 
prophets  entreat  that  their  own  predictions  may  not  be 
fulfilled,  and  their  prayers  sometimes  avail.  Neverthe¬ 
less,  the  instances  of  the  actual  verification  of  prophe¬ 
cies  of  this  kind,  which  could  not  have  sprung  from 
any  mere  human  calculation  and  foresight,  are  so  nu¬ 
merous,  and  of  so  marked  a  character,  that  the  reality 
of  a  divine  illumination  of  the  prophet’s  mind  cannot 
rationally  be  denied.1  Such  an  instance  is  the  prophe¬ 
cies  of  Isaiah  respecting  the  rapidly  approaching  down¬ 
fall  of  the  kingdoms  of  Israel  and  Syria,  which  had 
cemented  an  alliance  with  each  other,  and  of  the  fail¬ 
ure  of  their  project  against  Judah.2  Another  instance 
is  Isaiah’s  prophecy  of  the  failure  of  the  powerful 
army  of  the  Assyrian  king,  Sennacherib,  in  his  siege 
of  Jerusalem.3  Other  examples  are  afforded  by  the 
definite  predictions  of  Jeremiah  respecting  the  return 
of  the  people  from  the  exile.  Such  prophecies  cannot 
be  referred  to  any  shrewd  forecast  on  the  part  of  the 
seers  who  uttered  them.  When,  for  example,  the  Syro- 
Israelitish  alliance  menaced  Judah  and  Jerusalem,  the 

1  See  Bleek,  p.  326.  2  Isa.  vii.  8  Isa.  xxxvii.  21  seq. 


826  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


peril  was  imminent,  else  it  would  not  have  been  true  of 
Ahab  and  of  his  subjects,  that  “  his  heart  shook,  and 
the  heart  of  his  people,  as  the  trees  of  the  forest  shake 
before  the  wind.”  1  Apart  from  the  impossibility  of 
foretelling  such  events,  the  naturalistic  explanation 
presupposes  a  mental  state  in  the  authors  of  the 
prophecies,  which  is  quite  diverse  from  the  fact. 

Dr.  Kuenen’s  work  on  prophecy  is  an  elaborate  effort 
to  eliminate  the  supernatural  from  the  Old-Testament 
predictions.  These  he  attributes  exclusively  to  natural 
causes.  In  sustaining  his  thesis,  he  seeks  to  show  that 
the  prophecies  have  failed  of  a  fulfilment,  to  such  an 
extent  as  to  preclude  the  supposition  that  they  were 
the  product  of  revelation.  To  this  end,  as  regards  the 
general  prophecies,  — the  first  class  of  predictions  in  the 
enumeration  above,  —  he  not  only  insists  on  attaching 
a  literal  sense  to  passages  which  point  to  the  perpetual 
continuance  of  the  nation  of  Israel,  the  final  restora 
tion  of  the  Jews,  the  subjugation  of  their  enemies,  and 
the  like ;  but  he  refuses  to  consider  these  features  of 
prophecy,  which  the  event  has  not  literally  verified,  as 
limitations  in  the  perception  of  the  prophet,  not  incon¬ 
sistent  with  his  inspiration.  In  other  words,  he  allows 
no  medium  between  a  stiff  supernaturalism,  which  as 
cribes  exact  verity  to  the  form  of  the  prophet’s  vaticina¬ 
tion,  and  a  bald  theory  of  naturalism.  This  position  is 
unphilosophical.  It  overlooks  the  fact,  that  the  vehicle 
of  revelation  is  human,  and  fettered,  to  a  degree,  by 
natural  conditions  which  the  inspiring  Spirit  does  not 
sweep  away.  To  break  through  these  limitations 
altogether  would  be  to  substitute  a  dictation  at  once 
magical  and  incomprehensible  for  a  divine  illumination 
adapted  to  the  mental  condition  and  the  environment 


1  Isa.  vii.  2. 


THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  PROPHECY. 


827 


af  the  recipient  of  it.  The  prophet  Jeremiah  (ch. 
xxxiii.  18),  in  a  memorable  passage,  foresees  a  momen¬ 
tous  change  and  advance  in  the  religion  of  Israel.  A 
“new  covenant”  is  to  be  made  with  “the  house  of 
Judah,” — so  radical  is  this  change  to  be  !  The  law  is 
to  be  written  in  their  hearts,  that  is,  the  law  is  to  be  con¬ 
verted  into  an  inward  principle ;  and  there  is  to  be  a 
forgiveness  of  sin :  “  I  will  remember  their  si;a  no  more.” 
These  cardinal  features  of  the  new  dispensation,  which 
Christianity,  ages  afterward,  was  to  bring  in,  are  thus 
summarily  set  forth  in  this  wonderful  prediction.  Yet 
the  same  Jeremiah  says,  that  “a  man  shall  never  be 
wanting  to  sit  on  the  throne  of  David,  nor  Levites  to 
offer  sacrifice  on  the  altar.”1  “The  Jew,”  says  Dr. 
Payne  Smith  “  could  only  use  such  symbols  as  he  pos¬ 
sessed,  and,  in  describing  the  perfectness  of  the  Chris¬ 
tian  Church,  was  compelled  to  represent  it  as  the  state 
of  things  under  which  he  lived,  freed  from  all  imperfec¬ 
tions.”  2  In  the  last  chapter  of  the  Book  of  Isaiah3  the 
prophet  describes  in  an  exulting  strain  the  glorious 
days,  when  there  shall  be,  as  it  were,  new  heavens  and 
a  new  earth;  when  priests  and  levites  shall  be  taken 
even  from  the  Gentiles ;  when  the  old  forms  of  worship, 
with  the  exception  of  the  new  moon  and  the  sabbath, 
shall  have  passed  away;  and  when  “all  flesh”  shall 
worship  before  Jehovah.  Yet  here  Jerusalem  is  con¬ 
ceived  of  as  supreme,  and  the  centre  of  worship.  To 
break  away  absolutely  from  this  conception,  inconsistent 
though  it  be  with  the  union  of  “  all  flesh  ”  in  the  adora¬ 
tion  of  God,  would  have  been  to  ascend  to  a  point  of 
view  higher  even  than  that  which  the  apostles  had  at¬ 
tained  for  years  after  they  began  their  ministry.  Yet 

1  Jer.  xxxiii.  18.  2  Speaker’s  Commentary,  in  loco , 

8  Isa.  lxyi  20-23,  cf.  Ixii.  2,  lxv.  15. 


328  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


in  these  cases,  according  to  Dr.  Kuenen’s  method  of 
viewing  prophecy,  the  circumstance  that  the  prophet 
failed  to  see  the  future  in  form  and  detail  proves  that 
what  he  did  see  was  through  his  own  unaided  vision. 
This  procedure  implies  an  exclusion  of  the  natural 
factor  from  revelation  and  inspiration,  and  is  of  a  piece 
with  one-sided  conceptions  of  the  supernatural  in  the 
Scriptures,  which  modern  theology  has  set  aside,  or 
which  are  clung  to  only  by  rigid  adherents  of  an 
obsolescent  system. 

With  reference  to  prophecies  of  particular  events,  — 
the  second  class  of  predictions,  —  Dr.  Kuenen  is  dis¬ 
posed  to  bind  the  prophets  too  closely  to  the  letter  of 
their  predictions;  for  example,  in  what  they  say  of 
times  and  seasons.  He  does  not  allow  sufficient  weight 
to  the  conditional  character  that  belongs  to  this  species 
of  prediction  where  retributive  inflictions  are  concerned. 
Even  if  he  could  succeed  in  showing,  that,  in  certain 
cases,  prophecy  failed  of  its  accomplishment,  he  would 
not  establish  his  main  proposition,  unless  he  could 
prove  that  the  cases  where  the  prediction  proved  true 
may  be  considered  the  result  of  accident,  or  the  prod¬ 
uct  of  natural  foresight.  A  marksman  may  hit  a  target 
often  enough  to  exclude  the  hypothesis  of  accident,  even 
if  he  miss  it  occasionally.  If  he  thus  hits  the  mark 
when  he  is  known  to  be  blind,  or  when  the  target  is 
out  of  sight,  a  miraculous  guidance  of  the  arrow  must 
necessarily  be  assumed.  But  exceptions  to  the  corre¬ 
spondence  of  event  with  prediction  are  not  easily  made 
out.  The  progress  of  historical  research  has  removed 
difficulties  in  regard  to  passages  that  were  once  thought 
to  have  remained  unverified ;  the  passage,  for  example, 
:n  Isaiah,  predicting  the  conquest  of  Tyre.1 

1  See  Cheyne’s  The  Prophecies  of  Isaiah,  i.  132. 


THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  PROPHECY. 


329 


One  of  Kuenen’s  main  positions  is,  that  the  canoni¬ 
cal  prophets  are  not  separated  by  a  broad  and  distinct 
line  from  the  “false  prophets.”  He  avers  that  they 
are  all  of  a  class ;  the  only  difference  being  a  superior 
degree  of  moral  earnestness,  and  a  deeper  piety  on  the 
part  of  a  few.  His  theory  is  like  that  entertained  by 
Grote  respecting  the  relation  of  Socrates  and  Plato  to 
the  Sophists.  But  Grote’s  view  of  the  Sophists  breaks 
down  under  his  own  concessions  that  Socrates  and 
Plato  were  great  reformers;  working,  not,  like  other 
teachers,  for  hire,  but  from  a  nobler  impulse.  Socrates 
and  Plato  differed  from  Protagoras  and  his  followers  in 
their  principles,  method,  and  spirit.  But  the  disparity 
between  the  true  and  the  false  prophets  was  of  a  differ¬ 
ent  kind,  and  more  radical  still.  That  among  those 
who  are  denounced  as  “false  prophets”  were  indivi¬ 
duals  not  conscious  of  an  evil  intent,  or  actuated  by 
a  fraudulent  purpose,  may  be  true.  This  is  all  the 
truth  that  is  contained  in  Kuenen’s  peculiar  view. 
The  refutation  of  his  opinion  is  furnished  in  the  state¬ 
ments  of  Kohler,  which  Kuenen  himself  quotes.  There 
was  a  set  of  “false  prophets,” — “lying  prophets”  as 
they  were  called  by  the  prophets  of  the  canon.  Those 
pretended  prophets  spoke,  not  by  the  command  of 
Jehovah,  but  out  of  their  own  hearts.  It  was  from 
no  irresistible  impulse  from  within  that  they  uttered 
their  smooth  words.  They  flattered  the  vain  hopes 
of  kings  and  people.  They  cry  “  Peace  !  ”  “  Peace !  ” 
when  there  is  no  peace.  They  do  not  disturb  the 
people  in  their  indolent  self-indulgence.  Frequently 
they  are  instigated  by  covetousness  and  greed  of  gain. 
Against  this  whole  class  the  true  prophets  carry  on  a 
perpetual  warfare.  Unless  these  were  guilty  of  gross 
slander  and  intolerance,  magnifying  differences  of  judg 


830  THE  GROUNDS  OF  TIIEISTIC  AND  CHR1  dTIAN  BELIEF. 


ment  into  flagrant  sins,  Dr.  Kuenen’s  view  of  the  sub¬ 
ject  is  erroneous.  On  the  one  side  stood  the  “false 
prophets”  and  the  people  whom  they  deceived.  But 
the  true  prophets  generally  faced  a  resisting  and  per¬ 
secuting  public  opinion.  “  Who  hath  believed  our 
preaching?”  is  their  sad  and  indignant  complaint. 
Dr.  Kuenen’s  theory  is  contradicted  by  the  psycho¬ 
logical  facts  connected  with  the  utterance  of  the 
prophetic  oracles.  Was  the  inward  call  of  the  true 
prophet  —  that  overwhelming  influence  upon  the  soul, 
when  the  mighty  hand  of  God  was  laid  upon  him  — 
a  delusion?  And  how  shall  it  be  explained  that  the 
prophet  was  often  dismayed  by  the  glimpses  of  the 
future  that  burst  upon  his  vision,  that  he  strove  to  turn 
away  from  the  prospect,  that  he  was  driven  to  foretell 
what  he  himself  dreaded,  and  begged  God  to  avert? 
Shall  these  extraordinary  experiences  of  the  soul,  so 
exceptional  in  their  character,  so  powerful  in  their 
effect,  be  deemed  a  morbid  excitement?  or  resolved 
into  a  mere  play  of  natural  emotion  ? 

Dr.  Kuenen  says  that  “  the  canonical  prophets  have 
struggled  forward  in  advance  of  their  nation  and  of 
their  own  fellow-prophets.”  1  “  Struggled  forward  ?  ” 

Dr.  Kuenen  professes  to  be  a  theist.  Why  should  he 
apparently  shut  out  the  influence  of  the  Spirit  of  God  ? 
Why  not,  even  on  his  own  theory  of  an  uplifting  of 
a  portion  of  a  class  above  their  fellows,  attribute  this 
phenomenon,  which  no  discerning  man  can  fail  to 
regard  as  amazing,  to  a  special  unction  from  above? 
It  may  be  allowed  that  there  were  natural  qualifica¬ 
tions  which  led  to  the  choice  of  a  prophet.  His  mental 
and  spiritual  characteristics  fitted  him  to  be  the  recipi¬ 
ent  of  the  divine  influence.  But  to  exclude  or  depre- 


i  P.  582. 


TIIE  ARGUMENT  FROM  PROPHECY. 


831 


Diato  this  divine  influence  appears  more  congruous  with 
the  Pelagian  conceptions  of  deism  than  with  a  theism 
which  recognizes  God  as  immanent,  and  ever  active  in 
the  realm  of  the  finite.  Ewald  has  pointed  out  in  a 
striking  way  the  habit  of  the  prophet  to  distinguish 
between  what  was  given  him  and  what  he  produced  of 
himself,  —  a  peculiarity  which  disproves  the  natural¬ 
istic  hypothesis,  unless  one  is  prepared  to  consider 
the  prophet  a  half-insane  enthusiast.  It  is  not  to  be 
thought,  observes  Ewald,  that  because,  in  passages,  the 
prophet’s  “  own  I  disappears  in  the  presence  of  another 
.7,”  he  “  really  forgets  himself,  and  begins  to  speak  with 
out  self-consciousness,  or  ends  in  unconsciousness  and 
frenzy.”  “Neither  has  his  introduction  of  God,  as 
speaking  in  the  first  person,  sunk  into  a  crystallized 
and  idle  habit.”  “  But  the  prophet  always  starts  from 
his  own  experience  to  announce  what  he  has  already 
seen  in  the  spirit,  and  again  ends  with  his  own  expe¬ 
rience.  Nor  in  the  course  of  his  utterance  does  he  ever 
lose  the  consciousness  of  the  fine  boundary-lines  between 
the  divine  and  the  human.”  1 

There  were  criteria  for  distinguishing  the  true  prophet 
from  the  spurious.  The  prophet  might  work  a  miracle ; 
but  even  this  was  no  absolute  proof,  since  the  pretended 
prophet  might  at  least  seem  to  do  the  same.  Nor  was 
the  correspondence  of  the  event  to  the  prediction  a  sure 
evidence  of  genuine  prophecy.2  But  in  the  genuii  e 
prophet  there  was  a  sympathy  in  the  depths  of  the  soul 
with  Jehovah  and  his  law,  and  with  the  purpose  of  God 
in  the  course  of  history,  the  goal  of  which  he  saw  in 
the  far  future.  There  was  a  power  and  majesty  in  the 
true  prophets,  which  nothing  but  the  presence  of  God’s 
spirit  could  impart  to  them.  “  When  the  spirit  of 
i  The  Prophets,  etc.,  p.  41.  2  Deut.  xiii.  1  seq. 


332  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 


God  lays  hold  of  them,  and  compels  them  to  speak, 
they  demand  obedience  to  their  mere  word.  And  as, 
in  spite  of  all  murmuring,  the  congregation  of  Israel  in 
the  main  followed  Moses,  so  neither  the  bitter  hatred 
of  the  idolatrous  party  in  Samaria,  nor  the  vacillation 
of  the  king,  could  cripple  the  influence  of  Elijah  and 
Elisha.1  So  Saul  at  the  head  of  his  victorious  army 
dared  not  withstand  the  word  of  Samuel.2  So  Eli 
bowed  himself  to  the  divine  message;3  and  David,  in 
the  midst  of  all  his  glory,  endured  the  rebuke  of 
Nathan.4  Without  weapons,  without  the  prestige  de¬ 
rived  from  priestly  consecration,  without  learning  and 
human  wisdom,  the  prophets  demand  obedience,  and  are 
conscious  of  the  influence  which  they  can  exert  over 
the  men  of  power  in  the  nation.”6  “A  true  prophet 
of  God,  by  his  prayers  and  his  knowledge  of  God’s  will, 
by  the  warnings  that  he  utters  against  perils  and  false 
enterprises,  is  4  the  chariot  of  Israel,  and  the  horsemen 
thereof ;  ’  that  is,  like  a  shielding  host  of  armed  men.” 
44  On  the  other  hand,  their  persons  are  so  consecrated  to 
God  that  it  can  naturally  seem  dangerous  for  simple 
mortals  to  come  into  near  contact  with  these  men  of 
God,  who  may  bring  their  guilt  to  their  remembrance.”6 

Underlying  Dr.  Kuenen’s  views  of  prophecy,  as  was 
before  hinted,  is  a  deistic  mode  of  thought.  There  is 
a  reluctance  to  admit  a  direct  agency  of  God  in  con¬ 
nection  with  spiritual  phenomena  of  the  most  unique 
and  impressive  character.  He  allows  an  immediate  act 
of  God  in  connection  with  the  separation  of  Abraham 
and  the  training  of  Moses.7  The  Deity,  in  his  system, 

1  1  Kings  xxi.  20  seq.,  27  seq.;  2  Kings  iii.  13  seq. 

2  1  Sam.  xv.  21.  3  1  Sam.  ii.  27  seq. 

4  2  Sam.  xii.  13  seq.,  cf.  xxiv.  11  seq.  6  2  Kings  iv.  13. 

®  1  Kings  xvii.  13,  24;  2  Kings  iv.  9  ;  Luke  v.  8.  Scliultz,  p  721. 

1  Kuenen,  Tlv  ropho^s  *nd  Prrpheey  in  Israel,  p.  579. 


THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  PROPHECY. 


333 


if  lie  comes  in  at  all,  comes  in  as  a  deus  ex  machina. 
Hence  he  finds  it  difficult  to  conceive  of  grades  of  inspi¬ 
ration,  of  degrees  in  the  agency  of  the  supernatural,  of 
lower  and  higher  stages  in  prophetic  illumination.  The 
supposed  difficulty  of  drawing  a  sharp  line  between 
natural  divination  and  soothsaying,  and  the  earliest  phe¬ 
nomena  of  Hebrew  prophecy,  moves  him  to  conclude 
that  the  latter,  even  in  its  grandest  manifestations, 
springs  wholly  from  the  unassisted  faculties  of  man,  — 
which  is  like  inferring,  from  the  fact  that  we  cannot  fix 
the  exact  point  when  a  boy  becomes  a  man,  that  no 
man  exists,  or  that  all  men  are  boys.  There  is  a  latent 
postulate  of  a  great  gulf  between  the  natural  and  the 
supernatural. 

As  a  part  of  this  deistic  mode  of  view,  the  work  of 
the  prophets  is  confined  to  the  origination  of  “an  ethi¬ 
cal  monotheism.”  The  New-Testament  system  is  the 
completion  of  this  work.  Redemption,  the  hope  of 
the  prophets,  the  hope  realized  in  Christ,  is  left  out  in  this 
description  of  the  religion  of  the  Bible.  To  one  who 
adopts  this  interpretation  of  the  significance  of  the  work 
of  Christ,  the  links  of  connection  between  the  religion 
of  the  Old  Testament  and  the  religion  of  the  New, 
which  the  apostles  perceived  to  exist,  must  appear  un¬ 
real.  Hence  the  exposition  of  the  Old-Testament  sys¬ 
tem  by  the  New-Testament  writers,  their  recognition  of 
the  typical  character  of  the  Old-Testament  institutions 
and  rites,  and  their  explanation  of  the  prophecies,  must 
seem  to  be  a  house  built  on  the  sand.  First,  there  is  a 
narrow  conception  of  prophecy,  in  which  phraseology 
and  form  are  put  on  a  level  with  the  grand,  living  ideas 
which  they  embody.  Next,  there  is  a  narrow  concep¬ 
tion  of  Christianity  as  merely  or  chiefly  a  doctrine  of 
ethical  monotheism.  Lastly,  by  way  of  corollary,  the 


334  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEP. 


prophets  did  not  prophesy,  and  are  made  by  the  apostles 
to  prophesy  only  through  a  groundless  and  fanciful 
understanding  of  their  writings. 

There  are  prophecies  in  the  New  Testament  as  well 
as  in  the  Old.  The  general  predictions  relative  to  the 
perpetuity,  extension,  and  transforming  influence  of 
i  he  gospel,  when  one  compares  the  circumstances  under 
which  they  were  uttered  with  the  subsequent  history 
cf  Christianity  down  to  the  present  day,  discover  a 
knowledge  more  than  human.  The  words  of  Jesus  to 
the  disciple  Peter,  “  On  this  rock  I  build  my  church, 
and  the  gates  of  Hades  shall  not  prevail  against  it,’7 
are  a  declaration,  that,  on  the  basis  of  belief  in  him  as 
the  Messenger  and  Son  of  God,  a  community  was  aris¬ 
ing  which  no  power  could  destroy.  Consider  who  this 
Peter  was  to  whom  Jesus  spoke,  who  Jesus  was,  as 
regards  outward  condition  and  resources,  and  the  insig¬ 
nificance  of  his  following,  and  then  glance  at  the  Chris¬ 
tian  Church,  advancing  from  its  obscure  beginnings  to 
victory  over  Judaic  and  Pagan  opposition  and  to  its 
present  commanding  place  in  human  society !  The 
prediction  that  the  gospel  would  be  like  leaven  in  the 
world  of  mankind,  like  the  smallest  of  seeds,  evolving 
from  itself  a  lofty  and  spreading  tree  - —  who,  not  pos¬ 
sessed  of  a  discernment  more  than  human,  could  have 
then  foreseen  that  such  an  effect  was  to  follow  ?  Then 
there  are  particular  predictions,  of  which  the  prophecy 
of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  is,  perhaps,  the  most 
remarkable.  The  sagacity  of  man  might  have  judged 
that  a  desperate  conflict  was  likely  to  break  out  between 
the  Romans  and  the  Jews,  but  who  could  have  pre¬ 
dicted  with  any  assurance  that  city  and  temple  would 
be  reduced  to  a  ruin  ?  With  this  prediction,  one  should 
connect,  in  his  recollection,  the  prophecy  that  the  vine- 


THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  PROPHECY. 


385 


yard  would  be  given  out  to  other  husbandmen,  that  the 
treasure  of  God’s  best  gifts  would  pass  into  the  custody 
of  the  Gentiles.  The  Founder  looked  forward  to  the 
death  of  Judaism  and  the  birth  of  Christendom!  It  is 
not  to  be  overlooked  that  the  prophecies  which  are  re¬ 
ferred  to,  like  prophecies  in  general,  are  not  pronounced 
as  results  of  calculation,  as  probabilities  founded  on  the 
examination  of  evidence  on  the  one  side  and  on  the 
other.  They  are  uttered  in  that  tone  of  absolute  con¬ 
fidence  which  belongs  to  an  assured  insight.  It  is  the 
penetrating  glance  into  the  future  of  one  to  whom 
the  counsels  of  omniscience  have  been  superaatu  rally 
reveled. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  CHRISTIANITY  FROM  ITS  ADAPTED¬ 
NESS  TO  THE  NECESSITIES  OF  HUMAN  NATURE. 

Every  religion  has  to  submit  to  a  practical  test.  It 
verifies  or  disproves  itself  by  the  way  in  which  it  an¬ 
swers  to  the  spiritual  nature  and  wants  of  man.  Chris¬ 
tianity  does  not  come  forward  as  a  new  philosophy 
having  for  its  primary  end  the  solution  of  speculative 
problems.  It  claims,  to  be  sure,  to  be  in  accord  with 
reason.  It  claims  to  rest  upon  a  truly  rational  concep¬ 
tion  of  that  universal  system  of  which  man  is  a  compo¬ 
nent  part.  But  it  also  bases  its  title  to  confidence  on 
more  practical  grounds.  It  appeals  immediately  to  the 
conscience  and  the  affections.  It  calls  for  a  rectifica¬ 
tion  of  the  will.  It  promises  to  minister  to  necessi¬ 
ties  of  human  nature  which  are  felt  even  by  minds 
of  the  humblest  cast.  In  its  adaptedness  to  such  deep- 
felt  necessities,  which  spring  out  of  man’s  constitution 
and  condition,  which  cleave  to  him  as  a  moral,  respon¬ 
sible,  finite  creature  who  looks  forward  to  death,  and, 
with  more  or  less  of  hope  or  dread,  to  an  existence 
hereafter,  —  in  this  adaptedness  lies  an  argument  for 
its  truth  and  supernatural  parentage.  If  Christianity 
is  found  to  be  matched  to  human  nature  as  no  other 
system  can  pretend  to  be,  and  as  cannot  be  accounted 
for  by  any  wisdom  of  which  man  is  capable,  then  we 
are  justified  in  referring  it  to  God  as  its  author.  In 

the  proportion  in  which  this  fitness  of  Christianity  to 
336 


ADAPTEDNESS  OF  THE  GOSPEI  TO  HUMAN  NATURE.  337 


the  constitution,  the  cravings,  the  distress,  of  ihe  soul, 
becomes  a  matter  of  living  experience,  the  force  of  the 
argument  will  be  appreciated.  It  will  be  understood 
in  the  degree  in  which  it  is  first  felt.  Here  the  data  of 
the  inference  are  drawn  from  the  experiences  of  the 
heart.  The  impressions  which  carry  one  to  this  con¬ 
clusion  are  contingent  on  the  state  of  the  sensibility,  the 
activity  of  conscience,  and  the  bent  of  the  will.  The 
conclusion  itself  is  one  to  which  the  soul  advances  by 
an  inward  movement,  in  which,  rational  though  it  be, 
the  affections  and  the  will  are  the  determining  factors. 

There  is  in  the  human  spirit  a  profound  need  of  God. 
This  grows  out  of  the  fact  that  we  are  not  only  finite, 
but  consciously  finite,  and  not  sufficient  for  ourselves. 
But,  whether  the  source  of  it  is  reflected  on  or  not, 
this  need  of  a  connection  with  the  Eternal  and  Divine 
is  felt.  In  reality  it  is  deeper  in  the  heart,  whether  it 
be  consciously  recognized  or  not,  than  any  other  want 
of  human  nature ;  for  example,  than  the  instinct  that 
craves  friendship,  or  impels  to  the  creation  of  family 
ties,  or  seeks  knowledge  for  its  own  sake.  The  need 
of  God  may  be,  it  often  is,  latent,  undefined.  It  stirs 
in  the  soul  below  the  clear  light  of  consciousness.  Its 
very  vagueness  has  the  effect  to  send  man  off  in  pursuit 
of  a  variety  of  finite  objects,  which  are  sought  for  the 
sake  of  filling  the  void,  the  true  significance  of  which 
is  not  yet  discerned.  Now  it  is  wealth,  now  it  is  honor 
and  fame,  now  it  is  the  acquisitions  of  science.  Or  it 
may  be  sensual  pleasure,  or  the  entertainment  afforded 
by  social  intercourse,  or  any  one  of  a  myriad  sorts  of 
diversion.  The  different  forms  of  earthly  good  are 
estimated  beyond  the  value  which  experience  finds  in 
them.  When  they  are  gained,  the  void  within  is  not 
filled.  If  these  remarks  are  commonplace,  their  very 


838  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BEL]  EF. 


triteness  proves  their  truth.  In  childhood,  we  find  the 
world  into  which  life  is  opening  sufficient.  We  do  not 
tire  of  its  novelty.  The  future  stretches  before  us 
with  a  seemingly  infinite  attraction.  In  the  human 
beings  about  us,  in  the  spectacles  presented  for  the  eye 
to  gaze  on,  in  the  work  and  in  the  play  that  await 
us  at  each  day’s  dawn,  there  is  enough.  It  is  only 
in  exceptional  instances,  in  the  case  of  unusually 
thoughtful  and  deep-souled  children,  that  there  appears 
a  sacred  discontent  with  the  things  that  are  comprised 
in  the  life  about  them.  When  we  emerge  out  of  im¬ 
maturity,  there  will  arise  within  us  a  sense  of  the  un¬ 
satisfactoriness  of  existence,  —  a  feeling  not  in  the  least 
cynical,  not  always,  certainly,  due  to  disappointments, 
though  experiences  of  hardship  and  bereavement,  or  of 
whatever  makes  the  heart  ache,  do  certainly  aggravate 
this  hunger  of  the  soul.  It  may  be  that  there  will 
co-exist  an  inexpressible  feeling  of  loneliness.  There  is 
a  reaching  out  for  something  larger  than  human  love 
can  provide,  and  for  something  which  human  love,  when 
tasted  to  the  full,  leaves  unsupplied.  Study,  travel, 
absorption  in  pleasant  labor,  experiments  in  quest  of 
happiness  from  this  or  that  source,  much  as  they  may 
do  to  drive  away  temporarily  the  feeling  of  want,  fail  to 
pacify  it  permanently.  There  is  a  cry  in  the  soul,  even 
if  not  so  articulate  as  to  be  distinctly  heard  by  the  soul 
itself,  to  which  no  response  comes  from  the  world. 
Gifted  minds  which  of  set  purpose  shut  their  ears  to  this 
voice  within  have  their  moments  in  which  they  cannot 
avoid  hearing  it.  Goethe  is  one  of  the  most  prominent 
examples  of  the  deliberate  purpose  to  confine  the 
attention  within  the  finite  realm,  and  to  live  upon  the 
delights  of  art,  literature,  science,  love.  Whatever 
could  disturb  the  repose  of  the  spirit,  the  dark  side  of 


ALaPTEDNESS  of  the  gospel  to  human  nature.  339 


mortal  experience,  harassing  questions  respecting  the 
future,  he  would  banish  from  thought.  Yet  this  serene 
man  said  to  his  friend,  “  I  have  ever  been  esteemed  one 
of  fortune’s  chiefest  favorites ;  nor  can  I  complain  of 
the  course  my  life  has  taken.  Yet,  truly,  there  has 
been  nothing  but  toil  and  care  ;  and  in  my  seventy-fifth 
year  I  may  say  that  I  have  never  had  four  weeks  of 
genuine  pleasure.  The  stone  was  ever  to  be  rolled  up 
anew.” 1  Rest  was  not  attained.  There  was  a  lurking 
sense  that  the  peace  which  came  and  went  had  no 
perennial  source.  “We  may  lean  for  a  while,”  he 
once  said,  “  on  our  brothers  and  friends,  be  amused  by 
acquaintances,  rendered  happy  by  those  we  love ;  but 
in  the  end  man  is  always  driven  back  upon  himself. 
And  it  seems  as  if  the  divinity  had  so  placed  himself  in 
relation  to  man  as  not  always  to  respond  to  his  rever¬ 
ence,  trust,  and  love  ;  at  least  in  the  terrible  moment  of 
needy  “  There  had  then  been,”  writes  Mr.  Hutton,  in 
his  thoughtful  Essay  on  Goethe,  —  “  there  had  then  been 
a  time  when  the  easy  familiarity  with  which  the  young 
man  scrutinized  the  universe  had  been  exchanged  for 
the  humble  glance  of  the  heart-stricken  child ;  and  he 
had  shrunk  away  from  that  time  (as  he  did  from  every 
hour  of  life  when  pain  would  have  probed  to  the  very 
bottom  the  secrets  of  his  nature),  to  take  refuge  in  the 
exercise  of  a  faculty  which  would  have  been  far  stronger 
and  purer,  had  it  never  helped  him  to  evade  those 
awful  pauses  in  existence  when  alone  the  depths  of  our 
personal  life  lie  bare  before  the  inward  eye,  and  we 
start  to  see  both  4  whither  we  are  going,  and  whence 
we  came.’  Goethe  deliberately  turned  his  back  upon 
those  inroads  which  sin  and  death  make  into  our  natural 
habits  and  routire.  From  the  pleading  griefs,  from 

1  Eckermann’s  Conversations  of  Goethe,  p.  76. 


340  l'HE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


the  challenging  guilt,  from  the  warning  shadows,  of 
his  own  past  life,  he  turned  resolutely  away,  like  his 
own  Faust,  to  the  alleviating  occupations  of  the  present. 
Inch  by  inch  he  contested  the  inroads  of  age  upon  his 
existence,  striving  to  banish  the  images  of  new  graves 
from  his  thoughts  long  before  his  nature  had  ceased  to 
quiver  with  the  shock  of  parting  ;  never  seemingly  for 
a  moment  led  by  grief  to  take  conscious  refuge  in  the 
love  of  God  and  his  hopes  of  a  hereafter.”  1 

This  just  criticism  of  Goethe  brings  us  to  another 
deep  feeling  of  the  human  soul,  —  a  more  solemn  expe¬ 
rience,  a  more  imperious  need.  The  yearning  of  the 
finite  soul  for  an  infinite  good  is  not  its  most  agonizing 
emotion.  The  craving  which  an  intelligent  creature, 
however  pure,  would  feel,  —  the  craving  for  an  object 
meet  for  its  boundless  desires,  —  is  far  from  comprising 
the  whole  need  of  man.  There  is  a  sense  of  guilt, 
which,  sooner  or  later,  with  more  or  less  persistency, 
haunts  the  soul.  It  may  exist  only  as  an  uneasy 
suspicion.  It  will  frequently  arise  in  connection  with 
special  instances  of  wrong-doing,  or  of  neglect  of  duty 
in  relation  to  other  men.  One  finds  himself  accused 
in  conscience  of  being  selfish  in  his  conduct.  The  con¬ 
sciousness  of  secret  purposes  which  his  moral  sense 
condemns  inspires  him  with  a  feeling  of  unworthiness 
and  of  shame.  He  falls  below  his  own  ideals  ;  he  de¬ 
tects  himself  in  a  lack  of  courage,  of  truth,  of  purity, 
of  magnanimity,  of  loyalty  to  the  just  claims  of  rela¬ 
tives,  or  of  neighbors,  or  of  society  at  large.  Self¬ 
accusation  may  go  so  far  as  to  induce  self-loathing. 
The  more  he  probes  his  own  character,  the  more  aware 
does  he  become  that  there  is  something  false  and  wrong 
at  th  3  core.  He  is  living  to  the  world,  is  making  the 

1  Hutton’s  Essays,  vol.  ii.  (Literary),  p.  77. 


ADAPTEDNESS  OF  THE  GOSPEL  TO  HUMAN  NA1  URE.  341 


good  which  the  world  yields,  or  self-gratification  in  a 
more  gross  or  more  refined  form,  the  goal  and  end  of 
his  striving.  Not  only  is  he  without  God,  he  is  alien¬ 
ated  from  him;  and  in  this  alienation,  carrying  in  it 
an  idolatry  of  the  creature  and  of  finite  good,  he  finds 
the  root  of  the  evil  that  is  in  him.  Then  the  sense  of 
guilt  attaches  itself  to  the  impiety  or  ungodliness  out 
of  which,  as  an  innermost  fountain,  flows  the  defiled 
stream  of  ethical  misconduct.  We  are  drawing  no 
fancy  picture.  The  sense  of  unworthiness  is  not  a 
morbid  experience.  It  is  not  confined  to  transient 
moods;  it  is  not  limited  to  characters  of  exceptional 
depravity ;  it  does  not  belong  alone  to  men  of  the  spir¬ 
itual  elevation  of  Pascal  and  Luther,  of  Augustine  and 
Edwards ;  it  does  not  pertain  to  one  nation  exclusively, 
or  to  any  single  branch  of  the  human  family  alone ;  it  is 
not  an  artificial  product  of  the  teaching  of  Christianity, 
or  of  any  other  of  the  religions  that  have  prevailed 
on  the  earth.  It  is  a  human  experience,  giving,  there¬ 
fore,  the  most  diversified  manifestations  of  its  presence 
in  the  confessions  of  individuals,  in  poetry,  and  in 
other  forms  of  literature,  in  penances,  sacrifices,  and 
other  rites  of  worship.  The  “whole  world  is  guilty 
before  God,”  and  in  some  degree  sensible  of  its  guilt, 
notwithstanding  the  obtuseness  of  conscience  which  the 
practice  of  evil-doing  engenders,  the  natural  efforts  to 
stifle  so  humiliating  and  painful  an  emotion,  the  par- 
tiallv  successful  efforts  to  divert  the  attention  from  it, 
and  the  sophistry  which  labors  to  make  it  seem  unreal. 

Then  the  sense  of  being  without  God  is  converted 
into  a  sense  of  estrangement  from  him.  The  feeling 
of  responsibleness  and  of  guilt,  while  it  brings  God 
more  vividly  to  mind,  awakens  the  consciousness  of 
being  repelled  from  communion  with  hbn.  The  sense 


342  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


of  condemnation  both  drives  one  away  from  God,  and 
compels  the  thought  of  him.  The  soul  hides  itself 
“  among  the  trees  of  the  garden,”  yet  is  followed,  and 
held,  and  mysteriously  drawn,  by  the  offended  Being 
from  whom  it  has  unnaturally  separated  itself. 

There  is  more  than  a  sense  of  unworthiness:  there 
is  a  consciousness  of  bondage.  It  may  be  that  there 
are  particular  habits,  under  which  the  will  has  been 
subjugated,  which  have  now  come  to  be  felt  as  a  chain. 
Sensual  appetite  in  one  form  or  another,  ungovernable 
resentment,  covetousness,  or  some  other  base  purpose  or 
corrupt  form  of  conduct,  may  have  established  a  mas¬ 
tery,  which,  when  the  conviction  of  guilt  arises,  and 
with  it  discontent,  is  felt  as  a  galling  tyranny.  If  there 
be  no  single  predominant  passion,  the  general  principle 
of  worldliness  which  has  enthroned  the  creature  in  the 
room  of  the  Creator  oppresses  the  soul  that  has  now 
awoke  to  a  perception  of  its  abnormal  and  guilty  state. 
Struggles  to  break  loose  from  the  yoke  of  habit,  which 
has  become  bound  up  with  the  laws  of  association  that 
determine  the  current  of  thought,  has  enslaved  the 
affections,  and  taken  captive  the  will,  prove  ineffectual. 
“  What  I  would,  that  do  I  not ;  but  what  I  hate,  that  I 
do  ;  ”  or,  as  the  heathen  poet  expresses  it,  — 

“  Video  meliora  proboque ; 

Deteriora  sequor.” 

Of  course  the  struggle  against  inward  evil  may  be 
faint,  but  in  strong  and  earnest  natures  it  may 
amount  to  an  agony.  The  insurrection  against  the 
power  to  which  the  will  has  surrendered  itself  may 
rend  the  soul  as  a  kingdom  is  torn  by  civil  strife. 
The  unaided  effort  at  self-emancipation  turns  out  to 
be  fruitless.  It  is  the  vain  struggle  of  Laocoon  in  the 


ADAPTEDNESS  OF  THE  GOSPEL  TO  HUMAN  NATURE.  343 


coils  of  the  serpent.  It  may  end  in  a  despairing  sub¬ 
mission  to  evil. 

But  this  description  does  not  complete  the  account 
of  the  experience  of  the  soul  in  its  relations  to  God,  as 
long  as  it  is  yet  practically  ignorant  of  the  gospel. 
The  misery  of  human  life  must  be  taken  into  consid¬ 
eration.  Where  there  is  youth,  health,  prosperity,  and 
the  buoyancy  of  spirits  which  is  natural  under  these 
circumstances,  there  is  commonly  but  a  slight  apprecia¬ 
tion  of  the  countless  forms  of  distress  from  which  even 
the  most  favored  class  of  mankind  do  not  escape.  That 
there  is  no  sunshine  in  human  life,  even  in  situations 
that  are  adverse,  only  a  cynic  would  be  disposed  to  deny. 
But  he  is  equally  blind  to  facts  who  fails  to  recognize 
that  the  earthly  life  of  men  is  a  scene  abounding  in 
trouble,  in  pain  of  body  and  anguish  of  spirit,  in  hearts 
lacerated  by  fellow-beings  who  have  been  loved  and 
trusted,  made  sore  by  bereavement,  anxious  with  num¬ 
berless  cares,  often  weary  or  half-weary  with  the  burden 
of  toil  and  the  bitterness  of  grief.  Then  there  ap¬ 
proaches  every  household  and  every  individual  the 
dark  shadow  of  death.  The  love  of  life  is  an  instinct 
so  strong,  that  only  in  exceptional  cases  is  it  fully 
overborne  by  the  pressure  of  despondency.  Yet  death 
stands  waiting.  More  than  half  of  the  race  expire  in 
infancy.  Before  every  individual  is  the  prospect  ot 
this  inevitable  event,  which  he  endeavors  to  avert  and 
to  postpone  as  long  as  possible,  all  the  while,  however, 
aware  that  his  painstaking  will  at  length  be  fruitless. 

None  but  the  superstitious  consider  that  pain  and 
affliction  are  distributed  in  strict  proportion  to  trans¬ 
gression.  and  that  the  happiest  lot  falls  uniformly  to 
the  least  unworthy.  But,  while  this  notion  is  abandoned 
as  a  falsehood  of  superstition,  we  may  recognize  in  it 


344  TI3E  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


the  distortion  of  a  truth  which  is  embedded  in  the  con¬ 
victions  of  mankind,  —  the  truth  that  natural  evil  and 
moral  evil  are  connected  in  the  system  of  things ;  that 
one  is  the  concomitant  and  shadow  of  the  other ;  that 
suffering,  to  a  large  extent,  to  say  the  least,  is  a  part  of 
a  retributive  order.  Certain  it  is,  that  pain  and  sorrow 
tend  to  provoke  self-judgment  and  that  feeling  of  dl- 
desert  which  is  inseparable  from  conscious  guilt.  The 
presage  of  judgment  arises  spontaneously  in  the  soul. 
Especially  does  the  prospect  of  death  excite  remorseful 
apprehension.  The  vivid  presentiment  of  a  retribution 
to  come,  or  an  undefined  dread  of  this  nature,  springs 
up  unbidden  in  the  mind,  in  the  presence  of  that  awful 
crisis  which  breaks  up  our  present  form  of  being,  and 
sends  the  spirit  out  of  its  fleshly  tenement  into  the 
world  beyond.  Death  itself  w^ears  a  penal  aspect :  it 
is  felt  to  be  something  incongruous,  a  violent  rupture 
of  a  bond,  which,  if  dissolved  at  all,  we  might  look  to 
see  loosened  by  a  gentler  process,  by  a  transition  not 
attended  with  the  pangs  of  dissolution. 

When  the  moral  and  spiritual  perceptions  have  been 
thus  quickened,  the  mind  is  struck  with  the  fact  that 
Christianity,  as  set  forth  in  the  Scriptures,  recognizes 
to  the  full  extent  all  the  facts  which  it  has  been  aroused 
to  discern.  Not  only  are  they  admitted  in  the  Scrip¬ 
tures,  and  spread  out  with  no  attempt  to  disguise  them : 
they  are  insisted  on,  and  are  depicted  with  a  startling 
impressiveness.  An  individual  thus  awakened  to  the 
realities  of  existence  finds  depicted  there  man’s  need  of 
God,  —  his  thirst  for  God,  —  and  the  vanity  of  seeking 
to  slake  the  thirst  of  the  soul  for  the  Infinite  from  any 
mundane  fountains  of  pleasure.  u  Why  do  ye  spend 
money  for  that  which  is  not  bread  ?  ”  He  finds  there 
the  unworthiness  that  belongs  to  human  character  and 


ADAPTEDNESS  OF  THE  GOSPEL  TO  HUMAN  NATURE.  345 


conduct  proclaimed  with  a  piercing  emphasis.  There  is 
no  attenuation  of  human  guilt,  whether  as  connected 
with  immorality  or  with  ungodliness.  The  actual  con¬ 
dition  of  men,  as  regards  the  sufferings  to  which  all  are 
exposed,  and  those  from  which  none  escape,  is  very  often 
’.lelineated,  and  is  everywhere  latently  assumed.  Death, 
is  held  up  to  view  as  the  goal  which  all  are  approach¬ 
ing.  The  penal  element  included  in  it  is  brought  out. 
The  foreboding  of  conscience,  the  product  of  the  sense 
of  ill  desert,  is  distinctly  sanctioned  in  the  solemn  affir¬ 
mation  of  judgment  to  come.  In  short,  the  malady  of 
the  soul,  in  all  its  characteristic  features,  is  exposed  with 
such  fidelity  and  force  as  to  evoke  and  intensify  the 
spiritual  needs  and  fears  which  have  been  adverted  to. 
This  outspokenness  of  the  Bible,  this  laying  bare  of 
the  evil  and  of  the  danger,  invites  confidence.  It  raises 
at  least  the  hope,  that,  where  the  disorder  is  so  fully 
understood,  an  adequate  remedy  will  not  be  wanting. 

The  need  of  the  soul  is  Reconciliation.  This  is 
the  first  want  of  which  it  is  conscious.  It  needs  to  be 
brought  back  to  God,  and  to  communion  with  him, 
through  Forgiveness.  It  needs  help  from  without,  that 
it  may  overcome  the  principle  of  sin,  and  attain  the 
freedom  of  a  willing  loyalty.  It  needs  deliverance 
from  death,  as  far  as  death  is  an  object  of  dread  either 
in  itself  or  for  what  is  expected  after  it. 

How  can  one  who  is  in  this  mood  fail  to  be  deeply 
impressed  at  the  outset  by  the  circumstance,  that,  while 
the  Scriptures  assert  without  extenuation  the  guilt  of 
sin  and  the  righteous  displeasure  of  God  against  it, 
they  announce  at  the  same  time  not  an  inevitable  per¬ 
dition,  but  a  complete  rescue?  There  is  a  proclamation 
of  “good  tidings.”  First,  there  is  the  momentous  an¬ 
nouncement  of  a  merciful  Approach  made  by  God  to 


846  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 


estranged  and  condemned  mortals.  This  simple  assur* 
arice,  apart  from  all  methods  and  details,  will  excite  a 
profound  interest.  The  initiative  in  the  work  of  deliv¬ 
erance  has  been  taken  by  Him  from  whom  alone  for¬ 
giveness  and  deliverance  can  proceed.  Then  comes  the 
explicit  announcement  of  the  mission  of  a  Saviour, 
There  is  a  manifestation  of  God  to  men  through  a  man; 
a  man,  yet  in  such  an  intimacy  of  union  to  God,  that 
his  most  fit  designation  is  “the  Son  of  God,”  —  a  union 
such  that  no  one  knows  the  Father  but  the  Son,  and 
whoever  has  seen  him  may  be  said  to  have  seen  the 
Father,  —  a  union  which  had  its  mysterious  springs 
back  of  his  life  among  men.  He  brings  a  proclamation 
of  the  pardon  of  sin.  Ill-desert  is  to  be  no  barrier  to 
the  coming  back  of  the  transgressor  to  the  Father’s 
house  and  heart.  Death  is  no  longer  to  be  an  object  of 
dismal  foreboding :  it  is  to  become  a  door-way  to  an 
immortal  life  hereafter.  All  this  is  said  by  the  divine 
Messenger.  But  the  redemption  thus  declared  is  repre¬ 
sented  as  achieved  by  him.  A  man  among  men,  born 
of  woman,  subject  to  temptation,  identifying  himself  in 
sympathy  with  his  race,  he  surrenders  his  own  will  to 
the  will  of  God,  with  every  access  of  trial  carries  this 
surrender  to  a  higher  pitch,  carries  human  nature  victo¬ 
riously  through  life,  and  through  the  anguish  of  death, 
—  the  final  test  of  obedience  to  God  and  of  devotion 
to  men,  endured  willingly,  because  it  was  a  cup  given 
him  of  the  Father  to  drink.  In  that  death  is  the  life 
of  the  world.  Here  is  the  response  of  Christianity 
to  the  call  of  the  conscience  and  heart  for  something 
of  the  nature  of  expiation,  —  an  Atonement  for  sin. 
From  death  the  Saviour  rises  to  be  the  author  of  life. 
Through  tt  e  Spirit  given  to  replace  his  visible  presence, 
the  soul  is  convinced  of  its  sin,  pacified  in  its  self-re« 


ADAPTEDNESS  OF  THE  GOSPEL  TO  HUMAN  NATURE.  347 

proach,  delivered  from  its  servitude  to  evil,  and  brought 
into  a  iikeness  to  tlie  Redeemer,  to  whom  it  is  spiritu¬ 
ally  united,  as  the  branches  are  in  the  vine. 

Jesus  came  to  plant  within  the  soul  a  life  of  filial 
union  to  God.  In  the  assured  confidence  and  peace  of 
that  life  there  would  be  a  conscious  superiority  to  the 
world,  an  independence  of  the  changes  and  chances  of 
this  mortal  state.  In  that  life  of  heavenly  trust,  fears 
and  anxieties  of  an  earthly  nature  would  lose  their 
power  to  break  the  calm  of  the  spirit.  There  would 
inhere  in  it  a  power  to  overcome  the  world.  Resent¬ 
ful  passions  would  die  out  in  the  recollection  of  the 
heavenly  Father’s  patience  and  forgiving  love,  and  in 
the  sense  of  the  inestimable  worth  that  belongs  to 
every  soul,  however  unworthy.  A  secret  life,  serene  in 
the  midst  of  sorrow  and  danger,  a  perennial  fountain 
of  rest,  and  stimulus  to  kindly  and  beneficent  exertion, 
—  such  was  the  gift  of  Christ  to  men.  u  My  peace  I 
give  unto  you.”  This  life  he  first  realized  in  himself. 
He  maintained  and  perfected  it  through  conflict.  He 
imparts  it  through  the  channel  of  personal  union  and 
fellowship.1  The  Stoic  sought  for  tranquillity.  He 
purchased  it  by  subjecting  the  natural  affections  and 
emotions  to  the  tyranny  of  an  iron  will.  It  was  freedom 
from  disquiet,  attained  by  paralyzing  a  part  of  human 
nature.  If  gentleness  and  sympathy  survived,  as  in 
individuals  like  Marcus  Aurelius,  it  was  in  the  case  of 
souls  remarkably  favored  in  their  native  qualities,  or 
not  conformed  practically  to  the  hard  and  gloomy  dog¬ 
mas  which  formed  the  basis  of  their  system.  Christian 
serenity  leaves  room  for  the  full  flow  and  warmth  of  all 
human  sympathies  and  affections.  The  Buddhist  sought 

*  This  life  is  admirably  set  forth  in  that  classic  of  devotional  litera* 
tuie,  The  Imitation  of  Christ,  by  Thomas  k  Kempis. 


348  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


for  inward  peace.  He  sought  for  it,  likewise,  in  a  re« 
nunciation  of  the  world.  But  the  path  was  that  of  the 
ascetic.  The  Christian  is  empowered  to  use  the  world 
without  abusing  it,  or  being  enslaved  to  it.  He  is  not 
obliged  to  fling  away  the  good  gifts  of  God ;  but,  by 
making  them  servants  instead  of  masters,  he  can  enjoy, 
and  yet  can  forego,  that  which  he  possesses.  He  car¬ 
ries  within  him  a  treasure  sufficient  when  all  else  :# 
lost. 

This  is  but  a  meagre  sketch  of  what  the  soul  actually 
finds  in  Christianity  as  bread  for  its  hunger.  It  is  a 
question  of  historic  fact.  There  have  been  millions  of 
human  beings  who  have  been  delivered  from  conscious 
alienation  from  God,  and  enabled  to  live  lives  of  com¬ 
parative  purity  and  well-doing,  and  to  die  in  peace,  in 
the  hope  of  immortal  life,  in  the  way  delineated.  This 
effect  of  Christianity,  age  after  age,  would  be  inexpli¬ 
cable,  were  there  not  an  adaptedness  in  it  to  the  needs 
of  human  nature.  For  example,  the  conquest  of  the 
Roman  Empire  by  the  Christian  faith  is  an  insoluble 
problem,  except  on  the  supposition  of  a  profound  cor¬ 
respondence  between  the  moral  and  spiritual  necessities 
of  the  soul  and  the  cravings  of  the  heart,  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  Christian  faith  on  the  other.  Causes 
like  those  assigned  by  Gibbon  need  themselves  to  be 
accounted  for.  They  mainly  describe  traits  of  Chris¬ 
tianity  itself :  they  would  have  been  inoperative  inde¬ 
pendently  of  the  impression  made  by  Christ  himself. 

There  being  this  adaptedness  in  Christianity  to  man’s 
spiritual  being,  how  shall  it  be  accounted  for?  Can  it 
be  attributed  to  the  Nazarene  and  to  the  group  of  fish 
ermen  who  followed  him,  they  being  credited  with  no 
more  than  an  ordinary  human  insight?  Is  there  not 
reason  to  conclude  that  supernatural  agency,  even  a 


ADAPTEDNESS  OF  THE  GOSPEL  TC  HUMAN  NATURE.  349 


divine  wisdom  and  will,  was  active  in  this  great  move 
ment?  Leaving  out  of  view  other  kinds  of  proof,  as 
that  from  testimony  to  miracles,  the  practical  argu¬ 
ment  for  the  miraculous  origin  of  Christianity,  from  its 
proving  itself  the  counterpart  of  human  need  and  the 
fulfilment  of  the  soul’s  highest  aspirations,  is  one  diffi¬ 
cult  to  controvert.  It  is  the  argument  of  the  man  born 
blind,  who  replied  to  the  objections  of  the  Pharisees, 
“  Whether  he  be  a  sinner  or  no,  I  know  not :  one  tiling 
[  know,  that,  whereas  I  was  blind,  now  I  see.” 1 


1  Jdba  l x.  2S. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


I  FIE  ARGUMENT  FOR  CHRISTIANITY  FROM  THE  CHAR¬ 

ACTER  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  SYSTEM  OF  DOCTRINE. 

Christianity  verifies  itself  by  the  satisfaction  which 
it  affords  to  reason.  It  is  true  that,  in  one  particular, 
Christianity  is  broadly  distinguished  from  systems  of 
human  philosophy.  It  professes  to  have  another  object 
than  merely  to  present  a  theory  or  exposition  of  the 
nature  of  things.  It  will  do  more  than  draw  in  outline 

II  an  intellectual  system  of  the  universe.”  Inquisitive 
minds,  in  past  times  and  in  our  own  day,  have  sought 
to  unveil  that  rational  order,  which,  it  is  taken  for 
granted,  pervades  the  world,  and  binds  together  the 
beings  that  compose  it ;  and  they  have  aspired  to  trace 
all  things  back  to  their  ultimate  origin.  Christianity 
is  a  religion,  and  it  is  the  religion  of  redemption.  It 
includes  things  done,  interpositions  of  God  in  history,  a 
signal  expression  and  achievement  of  love  on  the  plane 
of  human  action.  In  a  word,  Christianity  is  historical. 
It  contains  an  element  intractable  to  mere  speculation. 
It  can  be  evolved  by  no  a  priori  reasoning  from  axiomatic 
truth.  It  does  not  admit  of  being  resolved  into  a  chain 
of  metaphysical  ideas. 

Yet  Christianity  is  a  system  of  truth.  As  such  it 
invites  comparison  with  other  systems.  It  embraces 
conceptions  of  God  and  of  man,  the  two  parties  with 
whom  redemption  is  concerned ;  and,  respecting  re¬ 
demption  itself,  it  asserts  a  consonance  of  this  historic 

360 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SYSTEM  OF  DOCTRINE. 


351 


transaction  with  the  principles  of  right  reason.  The 
origin  of  things,  the  nature  and  chief  end  of  man,  the 
relation  of  man  to  the  world  in  which  he  is  placed, 
the  purport  of  history,  what  evil  is,  and  how  it  is 
related  to  the  universe  as  a  whole,  and  to  its  First 
Cause,  —  these  are  some  of  the  important  points  which 
philosophy  has  always  dealt  with,  and  on  which  Chris¬ 
tianity  presents  a  teaching  of  its  own.  Is  this  teaching 
satisfactory  to  reason  ?  The  question  is  not  whether  it 
clears  up  all  difficulties.  The  proposal  to  do  this  would 
of  itself  constitute  a  presumption  against  the  preten¬ 
sions  of  any  system.  Omniscience  is  not,  and  can  not 
be  made,  an  attribute  of  men.  But  does  the  Christian 
system  shed  enough  of  light  on  the  problems  referred  to 
to  inspire  confidence  in  it?  And  is  it  so  reasonable 
and  so  lofty  a  system,  that  we  are  led  to  refer  it  to  a 
higher  source  than  the  human  minds  directly  concerned 
in  the  framing  of  it?  With  these  questions  in  mind, 
let  us  glance  at  some  of  the  principal  characteristics  of 
the  Christian  doctrine. 

It  may  be  thought  that  these  questions  imply  a 
capacity  of  reason  to  judge  which  it  does  not  possess, 
and  which  Christianity  even  denies  to  it.  The  limit  of 
reason,  it  may  be  said,  is  reached  when  the  fact  of  a 
revelation  has  been  rationally  established.  Nothing  fur¬ 
ther  remains  but  a  docile  reception  of  what  revelation 
affirms.  Are  not  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel  an  offence 
to  reason?  Does  not  the  New  Testament  say  this? 
Does  not  history  confirm  it  ? 

In  answer,  let  it  be  observed,  that,  when  reason  sits 
in  judgment  on  the  question  whether  a  revelation  has 
been  made,  it  exercises  an  imperial  function.  How, 
moreover,  can  it  avoid  forming  its  conclusion  partly  on 
what  the  alleged  revelation  teaches?  Yet  the  objec 


352  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  RELIEF. 


tions  stated,  above  are  valid  as  against  that  usurpation 
of  the  understanding  which  is  called  “rationalism.” 
Christianity  does  not  charge  reason  itself,  but  unregew 
erate  reason,  with  ii  capacity  to  discern  the  things  of  the 
spirit.  Regenerated  reason  finds  nothing  contradictory 
to  itself,  or  uncongenial,  in  the  Christian  system.  The 
New  Testament  does  make  the  perception  of  the  truth 
of  the  gospel  contingent  on  the  bent  of  the  will.  “  Ho 
that  willeth  to  do  his  will  shall  know  of  the  doctrine,” 
etc.  This  philosophy  of  religion,  instead  of  warranting 
doubt  as  to  the  pretensions  of  the  gospel,  excites  con¬ 
fidence.  It  is  a  profound  philosophy.  The  human  soul 
is  recognized  as  a  spiritual  unit.  The  part  which  the 
spiritual  nature  and  the  character  have  in  the  ascertain¬ 
ment  of  truth  is  recognized.  Knowing  keeps  pace  with 
doing.  The  mind  is  dependent  on  the  heart,  as  the 
heart  is  dependent  on  the  mind.  Yet,  as  long  as  char¬ 
acter  and  intellectual  development  are  both  imperfect, 
the  element  of  authority  continues.  We  are  climbing 
a  hill,  but  see  not  all,  which,  we  are  told,  will  be  visible 
from  the  summit.  Insight  and  belief  are  not  yet  co¬ 
extensive.  At  the  goal  both  are  blended  into  one. 

With  this  explanation,  we  may  glance  at  some  of  the 
main  particulars  of  Christian  doctrine. 

1.  In  the  forefront  of  the  teaching  of  Christianity  is 
its  pure  theism.  The  being  on  whom  the  universe 
depends,  from  whom  it  derives  its  existence,  as  well  as 
its  unity  and  order,  is  the  one  God,  a  spirit,  to  whom 
belongs  every  conceivable  perfection.  In  modern  times 
it  has  been  occasionally  proposed  to  supersede  Chris¬ 
tianity  by  deism,  or  by  theism  without  revelation. 
Deists  or  theists  of  this  class  have  commonly  failed  to 
recognize  the  fact,  that  the  one  article  of  their  creed 
is  an  heir-loom  from  the  religion  of  the  Bible.  The 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SYSTEM  OF  DOCTRINE. 


853 


truth  of  one  personal  God,  the  Creator  and  Ruler  of 
the  universe,  if  it  can  be  established  by  the  light  of 
nature,  is,  neve  tlieless,  actually  derived  from  Chris¬ 
tianity.  It  was  brought  to  the  European  mind  as  a 
part  of  the  Christian  faith.  But  for  this  teaching,  they 
who  profess  to  believe  in  God,  but  to  reject  revela¬ 
tion,  might  still  be  worshipping  “  gods  many,  and  lords 
many.”  Mohammedanism  is  a  deistic  religion,  but  it 
borrowed  its  doctrine  of  one  God  from  Hebrew  and 
Christian  sources. 

When  the  Christian  conception  of  God  is  contrast¬ 
ed  with  that  of  the  Greek  philosophy,  the  ripest  product 
of  the  uninspired  intellect  of  man,  the  superiority  of 
the  former  is  evident.  None  of  the  Greek  philosophers, 
not  even  Plato  and  Aristotle,  attained  to  the  idea  of 
the  absolute  and  infinite.  The  eternity  of  matter,  a 
partially  intractable  material,  was  assumed;  and  thus 
a  dualism,  unreduced,  and  of  baneful  tendency  in  its 
bearing  on  ethics,  infected  their  theology.  Prayer, 
personal  communion  with  God,  were  encouraged  by 
Socrates  and  by  the  noblest  of  the  schools  that  sprang 
up  after  him.  But  the  Epicureans  cast  aside  practical 
religion  altogether  ;  since  their  creed  made  the  world  a 
machine  that  took  care  of  itself,  and  the  deities  indiffer¬ 
ent  to  every  thing  that  occurs  in  this  mundane  sphere. 

Pantheistic  philosophers  have  sought  to  improve  upon 
the  Christian  conception  of  God.  They  have  thought 
it  a  gain  to  divest  the  absolute  of  consciousness  and  of 
all  other  personal  attributes,  as  if  unconscious  being 
were  higher  than  self-conscious,  and  as  if  a  substance 
that  is  necessitated  to  produce  a  finite  world,  be  that 
world  real  or  a  mass  of  illusions,  could  be  considered  in¬ 
dependent  as  to  its  being  and  its  action.  On  the  plane 
of  philosophy,  the  idea  of  a  God  who  gives  rise  to  other 


354  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THE1STIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


existences  through  a  free  self-determination,  not  con 
strained  from  within  or  without,  is  to  be  preferred  to 
all  the  rival  theories  in  which  fate  is  made  supreme. 

The  mode  of  creation,  Christianity  does  not  profess 
to  explain ;  but  the  immanence  of  God,  in  opposition 
to  the  deistic  notion  of  him  as  acting  on  the  world  from 
a  point  exterior,  is  abundantly  affirmed  in  the  Scrip¬ 
tures.  He  is  immanent  at  the  same  time  that  he  is 
transcendent.  The  fountain  of  all  energy  and  vitality, 
he  does  not  exhaust  his  power  in  carrying  forward 
from  within  the  course  of  nature.  He  is  above,  as  he 
was  before,  all  things.  All  that  Pantheism  values  in 
the  indwelling  of  deity  as  an  ever-active  Presence, 
Christianity  includes  in  its  conception  of  God. 

The  Christian  definition  of  the  character  of  God  is 
equally  agreeable  to  reason.  That  character  is  made 
up  of  righteousness  and  love,  not  righteousness  with¬ 
out  love,  or  love  without  righteousness.  It  is  love  that 
seeks  the  well-being  of  all  creatures,  yet  for  that  rea¬ 
son  is  hostile  to  whatever  is  unrighteous,  to  whatever  is 
opposite  to  its  own  nature,  and  to  universal  good. 

The  Christian  doctrine  of  the  providence  of  God,  as 
not  limited  to  things  and  events  of  extraordinary  mo¬ 
ment,  as  the  heathen  philosophers  were  apt  to  imagine, 
but  as  extending  over  the  minutest  objects,  and  over 
occurrences  apparently  insignificant,  —  this  doctrine 
alone  answers  to  the  rational  idea  of  an  infinite  Being. 
It  is  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  biblical  doctrine, 
that,  while  the  majesty  of  God  is  exalted  above  any  limit 
that  imagination  can  set,  there  is  associated  with  these 
views  the  representation  of  him  as  caring  tenderly  for 
the  wants  and  the  fears  of  the  humblest  human  being, 
as  even  listening  with  pity  to  the  cry  of  the  creatures 
inferior  to  man.  “Not  a  sparrow  falls  to  the  ground 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SYSTEM  OF  DOCTRINE. 


355 


without  him.”  This  is  said  of  the  Being  who  “sitteth 
on  the  circle  of  the  heavens/’  and  before  whom  the 
nations  of  mankind  are  as  “the  dust  in  the  balance.” 

If  the  providence  of  God  shapes  the  course  of  indi¬ 
viduals  and  of  communities,  Christianity  also  brings  to 
light  the  moral  government  which  he  is  administering 
over  the  world  of  mankind.  His  justice  is  declared 
to  be  exerted  in  the  allotment  of  good  and  evil  which 
follow  in  the  train  of  well-doing  and  evil-doing.  These 
awards  occur,  to  be  sure,  not  in  exact  proportion  to  the 
merit  of  individuals,  yet  in  such  manner  and  proportion 
as  to  excite  the  expectation  that  the  system  will  in  the 
end  show  itself  in  complete  accord  with  righteousness. 

2.  In  the  Christian  doctrine  respecting  man,  his 
weakness  and  frailty  as  a  child  of  the  earth,  framed  of 
the  dust,  and  his  lofty  spiritual  nature  and  destiny,  are 
truthfully  recognized.  Allied  on  the  one  side  to  the 
animals,  he  is  made,  nevertheless,  in  the  image  of  God. 
There  is  accorded  him  in  this  relation  a  position  exalted 
above  the  perishing  races  that  with  him  inhabit  the 
earth.  He  is  to  live  beyond  death.  He  is  false  to  his 
nature  if  he  does  not  seek  his  blessedness  in  filial  com¬ 
munion  with  God.  He  is  endued  with  the  lofty  but 
awful  power  of  free  self-determination,  the  foundation 
of  personal  responsibility.  He  is  made  the  arbiter  of 
his  own  destiny.  It  is  left  to  him  to  choose  whether 
he  shall  rise  to  an  unimaginable  height  of  moral  and 
spiritual  excellence,  or  sink  to  a  proportionate  depth  of 
ruin.  Yet  side  by  side  with  this  doctrine  of  human 
freedom  and  consequent  accountableness,  there  are 
found  iii  the  Bible  the  strongest  assertions  of  the  con¬ 
trol  exercised  by  God  over  men,  and  over  the  course 
of  events  in  which  their  volitions  bear  a  part.  If  we 
gknce  at  the  schemes  of  human  philosophy,  we  shall 


35b  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

find  that  most  frequently  one  truth  on  this  subject  is 
affirmed,  but  coupled  with  a  denial  or  curtailment  of 
its  counterpart  and  seeming  opposite.  We  meet  with 
assertions  of  the  doctrine  of  free-will,  no  room  being 
allowed  for  that  divine  ordering  of  events  without 
which  God  would  be  subordinate  to  his  creatures,  and 
history  a  chaos  of  random  occurrences.  More  often  we 
find  the  efficiency  of  the  superior  powers  affirmed  in 
a  way  that  explicitly,  or  in  effect,  shuts  out  human 
liberty,  and  compels  the  inference  that  free-will  is  a 
phantom.  In  this  coupling  of  two  apparently  antago¬ 
nistic  types  of  teaching,  each  of  which,  however,  finds 
a  warrant  in  every  broad  view  of  things,  the  Bible 
evinces  its  wisdom.  If  the  sacred  writers  make  no 
attempt  to  reconcile  divine  control  and  free-will,  it  is 
because  of  the  practical,  as  contrasted  with  the  specula¬ 
tive,  spirit  and  design  of  the  Scriptures.  Metaphysical 
disquisition  is  foreign  to  the  end  which  the  authors  of 
the  Bible  had  in  view. 

3.  The  Christian  doctrine  of  sin  is  marked  by  a  deep 
perception  of  the  nature  of  character,  and  finds  a 
response  in  the  verdicts  of  an  enlightened  conscience. 
The  foremost  philosophers  of  antiquity  traced  moral 
evil  to  a  physical  source.  The  germs  of  it  were  thought 
to  lie  in  the  constitution  of  man.  It  sprang  of  neces¬ 
sity  from  the  matter  which  enters  into  his  being.  Thus 
the  real  nature  of  sin  was  obscured :  it  was  made  to  be 
something  physical,  therefore  something  inevitable. 
Responsibility  was  in  a  proportionate  degree  eclipsed. 
A  mist  was  spread  over  the  moral  judgment  of  the  in¬ 
dividual,  whether  as  directed  to  his  own  character  or  to 
the  character  of  mankind  generally.  Kindred  theories 
appear  and  re-appear  in  Christian  ages,  wherever  the 
doctrine  of  the  Bible  is  forsaken  for  a  wisdom  assum- 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SYSTEM  OF  DOCTRINE. 


857 


ing  to  be  higher.  It  is  evident,  however,  that  to  trace 
moral  evil  to  any  thing  behind  or  below  the  will  is  to 
violate  conscience,  and  really  to  degrade  man  from  the 
high  level  of  free  and  responsible  agency.  No  being 
with  capacities  less  exalted  would  be  capable  of  sin,  as 
sin  is  defined  in  Christian  teaching.  To  supersede  this 
conception  by  one  which  transmutes  moral  evil  into 
natural  evil  is  not  to  lift  up  man  in  dignity,  but  to 
degrade  him. 

The  depth  of  the  Christian  view  of  moral  evil  is 
evinced  in  the  tracing  of  it  collectively  to  the  alienation 
of  the  heart  or  will  from  God.  Separation  from  com¬ 
munion  with  God,  the  self-assertion  which  aspires  to 
independence,  disobedience  to  him,  —  here,  according 
to  the  Bible,  is  the  fons  et  origo  malorum.  The  substi¬ 
tution  of  an  inferior  good  for  the  highest  good,  the 
world  for  God,  is  at  the  root  of  immorality.  Impiety 
is  the  source  of  corrupt  and  unrighteous  conduct  in 
human  relations.  The  chief  good  being  lost,  a  strug¬ 
gle  ensues  to  extort  from  the  world  more  of  happiness 
than  it  has  to  yield.  Propensities  are  inflamed,  and  the 
more,  in  proportion  as  they  are  indulged.  Man  having 
broken  loose  from  the  law  of  his  being,  there  is  no 
effectual  curb  upon  the  passions.  Selfishness  prevails, 
with  its  two  instruments,  lawless  force  and  fraud. 

The  Christian  doctrine  of  sin  is  conformed  to  truth 
in  that  it  makes  the  individual  implicated  with  the  race 
in  being  under  the  dominion  of  sin,  at  the  same  time 
that  personal  agency  and  accountableness  are  insisted 
on.  This  truth  suggests  problems  which  Scripture  does 
not  undertake  to  solve.  For  the  most  part,  it  relies 
upon  the  common  convictions  of  men,  and  upon  con¬ 
science,  as  affording  a  sufficient  sanction  to  its  doctrine 
in  both  of  its  aspects.  To  harmonize  the  fact  of  indi* 


858  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


vidual  responsibility  with  the  community  of  the  race  in 
sin  and  guilt  is  a  task  left,  for  the  most  part,  for  the 
Christian  philosopher  to  perform  as  far  as  he  may. 
But  just  as  the  combination  of  divine  control  with 
human  liberty  in  the  biblical  system  is  an  indication 
of  its  breadth  of  view,  so  is  the  assertion  of  sin  as  at 
once  the  attribute  of  the  individual,  and  the  common 
cliaricter  of  the  race.  Seeming  inconsistencies  of  this 
nature,  instead  of  being  a  ground  of  objection  to  the 
Christian  system,  are  marks  of  a  comprehensiveness 
which  takes  account  of  all  the  facts,  and  looks  at  the 
truth  upon  more  than  one  side. 

4.  The  Christian  doctrine  of  Salvation  is  the  coun¬ 
terpart  of  the  doctrine  of  Sin.  Redemption  is  a  moral 
deliverance.  The  old  philosophers,  who  placed  the 
seeds  of  moral  defilement  in  matter,  must  needs  hold  to 
a  physical  redemption.  Spirit  must  be  cleansed  from 
the  polluting  contact  with  the  body.  Frequently  an 
ascetic  discipline  was  prescribed.  Sometimes  there  was 
demanded  an  austere  discipline  of  the  intellect,  which 
might  liberate  the  intellectual  principle  from  the  inter¬ 
mingling  of  corporeal  influences.  The  spiritual  philoso¬ 
phy  of  a  Plato  confuses  the  moral  with  the  physical 
in  its  theory  of  redemption  as  in  its  theory  of  sin.  Pu¬ 
rification  is  quite  as  much  a  metaphysical  change,  a 
purging  of  the  soul  from  the  ingredients  of  sense,  as 
a  cleansing  of  the  heart,  that  is,  the  rectification  of  the 
will.  Degenerate  forms  of  Christianity  introduce  kin¬ 
dred  ideas.  Physical  austerities  and  asceticism  follow 
in  their  train.  The  Christianity  of  the  Bible,  on  the 
contrary,  lays  its  finger  on  the  source  of  the  malady. 
The  axe  is  laid  at  the  root  of  the  tree.  Repentance  is 
a  turning  of  the  will  in  the  right  direction.  Conver¬ 
sion  is  a  self-surrender,  in  a  voluntary  act,  to  God  as  the 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SYSTEM  OF  DOCTRINE. 


869 


object  of  supreme  trust  and  service.  But  the  bieadtb 
of  the  Christian  system  is  again  manifest  in  the  circum 
stance  that  it  includes  in  its  doctrine  the  redemption 
of  the  whole  man.  This  is  the  significance  of  the  res¬ 
urrection.  It  is  a  rescue  from  physical  evil  and  from 
death,  its  extreme  form.  It  is  the  restoration  of  the 
organism  through  which  the  soul  acts  to  its  pristine 
or  ideal  perfection.  As  the  body  of  Jesus  was  raised 
up,  transfigured,  converted  into  “  a  spiritual  body,”  or  a 
body  divested  of  the  infirmities  and  inconveniences  that 
belong  to  matter  in  the  crass  form  in  which  matter  is 
known  to  us,  so  the  prospect  is  held  out,  that,  in  the 
room  of  the  bodies  which  return  to  dust,  there  will  be 
developed  for  the  redeemed  soul  an  organism  suited  to 
its  needs  and  to  the  conditions  of  the  immortal  state  of 
being,  —  an  organism  of  which  the  material  body  worn 
here  is  the  type  and  precursor. 

Inasmuch  as  salvation  is  moral  in  its  essence,  it  is 
within  the  reach  of  all.  Christianity  —  in  keeping  with 
its  main  postulate,  that  the  ills  of  man  spring  ultimately 
from  a  moral  source,  the  alienation  of  the  heart  from 
the  Father  of  our  spirits  —  addresses  itself  to  the  work 
of  remedying  this  primary  disorder.  The  chief  good  is 
to  be  found  in  communion  with  God.  To  this  com¬ 
munion  a  pure  heart  —  a  righteous  choice — is  the  one 
condition.  Thus  the  boon  offered  by  Christianity  is 
accessible  to  all.  The  Greek  philosophers  went  too  far 
in  identifying  virtue  with  knowledge.  Socrates  himself 
was  not  free  from  this  error.  Hence,  in  Plato  and  Aris¬ 
totle  and  the  other  masters,  it  is  only  the  intellectually 
gifted  to  whom  the  highest  spiritual  good  is  open.  The 
world  at  large  is  debarred  from  attaining  it.  The  sage 
in  the  Stoic  system  must  be  one  on  whom  nature  has  be¬ 
stowed  special  endowments.  The  philosophers  taught, 


860  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


that,  to  their  class  alone,  redemption  in  the  full  sense  is 
possible.  The  true  good  was  an  esoteric  possession.  It 
belonged  to  the  select  few.  The  intellectual  made  up 
the  elect.  The  idea  of  an  intellectual  aristocracy,  raised 
above  the  common  herd  by  the  possession  of  an  insight 
utterly  out  of  their  reach,  pervades  the  ancient  schools. 
Christianity,  through  its  conception  of  evil  as  moral  in 
its  essence  and  source,  is  humane  and  catholic.  The 
classes  of  men  who  are  despised  by  those  who  are  proud 
of  their  superior  talents  and  culture  are  cordially  in¬ 
vited  by  Christianity  to  receive  its  best  gifts.  The 
point,  however,  which  is  here  to  be  considered,  is  not 
the  catholic,  compassionate  spirit  of  the  gospel,  but 
rather,  the  profound  discernment  which  it  implies  of 
the  real  origin  of  sin  and  evil  in  men,  and  of  the  sort 
of  remedy  that  must  be  applied. 

If  we  were  to  enter  into  the  particular  consideration 
of  this  remedy,  we  should  be  called  on  to  consider  the 
doctrines  of  the  incarnation  and  of  the  atonement. 
Apart  from  the  testimony  of  Scripture  to  the  truth  of 
these  doctrines,  none  but  the  shallow  or  ill-informed 
will  be  disposed  to  deny  that  they  contain  grand  con¬ 
ceptions.  That  God  should  unite  himself  to  the  race, 
to  the  end  that  he  might  unite  the  race  to  himself ;  that, 
by  an  obedience  unto  death,  a  great  reparation  should 
be  made  for  man’s  violation,  through  sin,  of  the  moral 
order  of  the  world,  —  these  are  ideas,  to  say  the  least, 
fraught  with  interest.  Last  of  all,  can  philosophers 
who  lean  towards  Pantheism  regard  with  disrespect  a 
doctrine  which  brings  God  into  so  close  affiliation  with 
human  nature.  That  salvation  is  accomplished  by  a 
mediator  is  in  harmony  with  the  analogies  of  the  divine 
procedure  in  the  course  of  nature  and  of  history.  That 
vast  benefits  should  flow  to  the  many  through  voluntary 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SYSTEM  OF  DOCTRINE. 


361 


and  unmerited  sufferings  endured  by  one  is  a  familiar 
fact  of  experience. 

But,  not  to  enter  into  the  special  discussion  of  these 
topics,  there  are  certain  prominent  characteristics  of 
the  Christian  doctrine  of  redemption  which  are  stamped 
upon  the  face  of  it.  There  is  a  conjunction  of  right¬ 
eousness  and  mercy.  The  work  which  is  done  by  tl  e 
Saviour  is  from  beginning  to  end  a  manifestation  —  a 
realization  we  might  better  say  —  both  of  holiness  and 
of  love.  There  is  not  the  least  abatement  of  the  inten¬ 
sity  of  the  abhorrence  of  sin ;  yet  forgiveness,  so  far 
as  the  recipient  is  concerned,  could  not  be  more  free, 
complete,  heartfelt.  It  may  be  further  said,  that  this 
mingling  of  holiness,  absolute  and  uncompromising, 
with  a  love  to  the  transgressor  that  stops  short  of  no 
sacrifice,  and  grants  pardon  “  without  money  and  with¬ 
out  price,”  is  fundamental  to  the  gospel. 

The  Christian  doctrine  of  the  influence  of  the  spirit 
of  God  is  in  itself  not  more  mysterious  or  inexplicable 
than  the  acknowledged  personal  influence  of  one  human 
mind  upon  another.  There  is  involved  in  it  no  more 
interference  with  the  liberty  of  the  will.  The  reasona¬ 
bleness  of  the  Christian  doctrine  as  a  conception  will 
be  questioned  only  by  a  frigid,  unphilosophical  deism, 
which  represents  God  as  standing  aloof  from  the  world, 
and  ignores  the  near  affinity  of  the  human  to  the  divine. 

5.  How  stands  Christianity  on  the  questions  of  the 
theodic}^?  In  particular,  how  is  the  infinitude  of  the 
divine  attributes  to  be  reconciled  with  the  existence  of 
evil?  The  Christian  system  rejects  with  abhorrence 
the  pantheistic  notion  that  wrong  is  a  phase  or  rudi¬ 
ment  of  right.  It  pronounces  a  woe  on  all  who  call 
“evil”  “good,”  or  “good”  “evil.”  How  shall  the  ex¬ 
istence  of  sin  be  harmonized  with  the  omnipotence  and 


362  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AN.  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


holiness  of  God?  And  how  shall  the  sufferings  of  crea¬ 
tures  be  reconciled  with  the  ascription  of  boundless 
power  and  benevolence  to  the  Creator  and  Disposer  of 
all? 

Christianity  abstains  from  a  positive  and  complete 
solution  of  these  problems.  It  enters  an  indignant  pro- 
test  against  false  theories,  such  as  those  which  limit 
God  by  fate,  or  destroy  human  responsibility.  The 
rational  grounds  of  this  protest  are  made  evident. 
Enough  is  said  to  disarm  the  disbeliever  or  doubter, 
who  on  logical  grounds  would  impugn  the  perfections 
of  God.  It  is  made  impossible  to  convict  the  Christian 
doctrine  of  God  and  of  his  government  of  error  or  in¬ 
consistency.  This  negative  work  is  of  great  scientific 
value. 

To  begin  with  natural  evil.  As  concerns  human 
suffering,  it  is  impossible  to  aver,  that,  in  a  world  where 
sin  abounds,  there  is  too  much  pain,  or  that  it  is  un¬ 
wisely  distributed  with  reference  to  the  ends  of  justice 
and  benevolence.  It  must  be  remembered,  that  the 
course  of  things  is  determined  by  general  laws;  and 
this,  as  far  as  we  can  judge,  is  the  most  beneficent  ar¬ 
rangement.  The  pain  which  men  suffer  is  represented 
as  either  penal  or  disciplinary,  both  as  related  to  the 
individuals  who  suffer  and  to  the  community  with  which 
they  stand  in  an  organic  relation.  In  a  multitude  of 
particular  instances  we  can  discern  that  the  various 
forms  of  suffering  are  salutary  in  their  tendency.  No 
man  knows  enough  respecting  the  system  of  things  in 
its  full  extent,  embracing  the  life  to  come  as  well  as  tl.e 
life  that  now  is,  to  affirm  that  the  same  is  not  true  of 
all  the  pains  and  calamities  to  which  we  are  subject. 
The  teaching  of  revelation  respecting  death  is,  not  that 
man  was  made  in  his  physical  nature  immortal,  b  it  that 


THE  CHRISTIAN  SYSTEM  OF  DOCTRINE. 


803 


physical  immortality  was  to  bo  the  reward  of  moral 
obedience.  There  would  have  been  some  transition  to 
the  higher  stage  of  being  without  the  endurance  of 
death  in  the  present  significance  of  the  term,  —  the 
violent  rupture  of  soul  and  body,  with  the  agony  and 
anxiety  that  precede  and  attend  dissolution.  If  moral 
evil  is  apprehended  in  its  true  character,  as  an  abnormal 
psrversion  at  the  very  centre  of  personality,  the  scrip* 
tural  doctrine  of  death  as  resulting  in  this  indirect  way 
will  no  longer  appear  strange  and  improbable. 

With  respect  to  the  existence  of  moral  evil,  much 
light  is  thrown  on  this  dark  problem  which  has  puzzled 
men  from  the  dawn  of  speculation,  by  the  scriptural 
'.loctrine  of  human  freedom.  All  direct  agency  in  the 
production  of  sin  is  denied  to  the  Creator.  It  is  only 
the  permission  or  non-exclusion  of  moral  evil  by  his 
interposition  which  calls  for  explanation.  The  answer 
of  Christian  theology  to  objections  brought  on  this 
score  to  the  divine  omnipotence  and  goodness,  is  that, 
for  aught  we  know,  the  existence  of  freedom  in  crea¬ 
tures  made  and  placed  as  the  creatures  of  God  are,  and 
in  a  created  system  the  best  of  all  possible  systems  in 
its  nature  and  results,  —  that  the  existence  of  freedom 
under  these  circumstances  may  be  incompatible  with 
the  exclusion  through  the  agency  of  God,  whether 
moral  or  coercive,  of  sin,  so  far  as  sin  actually  exists. 
There  may  be  an  incompatibility  as  absolute  as  that 
which  prevents  a  triangle  from  having  a  sum  of  angles 
greater  or  less  than  two.  The  moral  influences  ar¬ 
ranged  for  the  prevention  and  redi  ction  of  moral  evil, 
the  measures  appointed  for  overruling  it  when  it  ap¬ 
peal's,  and  for  vindicating  righteousness  in  the  punish¬ 
ment  of  ifl  may  exhaust  the  resources  which  omnipo¬ 
tence  can  wisely  exert  in  the  way  of  antagonism  to  sin. 


364  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


If  the  subject  of  the  actual  issues  of  the  world’s 
history  is  to  be  considered  as  one  topic  of  the  theodicy, 
it  is  first  to  be  said,  that,  to  a  large  extent,  these  are 
veiled  in  mystery.  We  are  debarred  by  ignorance  from 
assuming  that  the  human  race  comprises  all,  or  even 
a  considerable  fraction,  of  the  intelligent  creatures  who 
compose  the  universe.  This  circumstance  of  itself  pre* 
eludes  us  from  judging  of  the  total  results  of  a  system 
whose  extent  is  so  imperfectly  understood.  The  dis¬ 
closures,  moreover,  of  the  lot  that  awaits  human  beings 
hereafter,  though  clear  and  definite  in  some  points,  are, 
for  reasons  not  wholly  inscrutable,  left  obscure  and  frag¬ 
mentary.  They  partake  of  the  ordinary  style  of  pro¬ 
phetical  teaching.  They  are  brought  forward,  not  to 
gratify  a  curiosity  to  peer  into  the  future,  but  for  warn¬ 
ing  and  encouragement  in  the  struggle  with  temptation. 
In  the  second  place,  the  principles  on  which  divine 
judgment  will  proceed  are,  as  it  is  always  declared, 
marked  by  perfect  equity  and  mercy.  There  is  no 
condemnation  which  will  not  include  a  corresponding 
self-condemnation.  There  is  no  ruin  possible  to  a  re¬ 
sponsible  creature  of  God  which  he  does  not  bring  on 
himself,  first  by  voluntary  transgression,  and,  secondly, 
by  resistance  or  indifference  to  the  merciful  interven* 
tion  which  contains  in  it  both  the  bestowal  of  pardon, 
and  divine  spiritual  aid  in  casting  off  the  habit  of 
impiety  and  evil-doing,  and  in  rising  superior  to  the 
seductions  of  the  tempter.  The  Christian  doctrine  is, 
that  God  seeks  for  those  who  are  astray,  and  welcoite? 
them,  when  they  return,  with  all  the  tenderness  of  a 
human  father  towards  a  wayward  son.  The  conclusion 
of  the  whole  matter  is,  that  we  must  know  more  of  the 
ultimate  results  of  the  creation  and  management  of 
the  entire  universe,  of  only  a  small  portion  of  which  we 


THE  CHRISTIAN  S  irSTEM  OF  DOCTRINE, 


3G5 


have  an /  definite  knowledge,  to  authorize  us  in  calling 
in  question  the  infinite  wisdom,  the  infinite  power,  the 
infinite  justice,  or  the  infinite  goodness,  of  God.  Such 
is  the  answer  which  the  Scriptures,  in  substance,  make 
to  the  objections  of  infidelity.  On  such  a  theodicy 
the  Christian  system  of  doctrine  reposes.  What  othei 
mode  that  has  ever  been  proposed  of  meeting  the 
questions  suggested  by  the  existence  of  evil  is  equally 
satisfactory  ? 

In  the  discussions  which  we  are  now  pursuing,  the 
question  of  the  truth  of  the  several  doctrines  of  Chris¬ 
tianity  is  pertinent  only  as  illustrative  of  the  depth  and 
value  of  the  Christian  system.  The  foregoing  remarks 
are  designed,  not  so  much  to  vindicate  these  doctrines 
against  objections,  as  to  produce  a  just  impression  of 
the  high  rank  that  belongs  to  the  Christian  system  from 
an  intellectual  point  of  view.  It  will  hardly  be  ques¬ 
tioned  by  any  competent  student,  that  Christianity  pre¬ 
sents  to  the  human  mind  a  system  of  teaching  on  the 
most  momentous  themes,  which,  for  its  profundity  and 
coherence,  deserves  respect,  if  it  does  not  command 
unhesitating  assent.  The  bare  fact  that  Christian 
teaching  has,  age  after  age,  absorbed  the  attention  of 
so  many  of  the  ablest  minds,  is  enough  to  make  good 
this  proposition.  Men  of  powerful  intellect,  such  as 
Thomas  Aquinas,  to  whom  writers  like  Aristotle  are  fa¬ 
miliar  companions,  have  spent  their  lives  in  formulating 
Christian  doctrine,  in  seeking  to  fathom  its  abysses  of 
wisdom,  and  in  showing  its  conformity  to  the  most  illu¬ 
minated  reason.  That  which,  century  after  century,  has 
formed  the  subject  of  all  this  investigation  and  debate, 
must  comprise  within  it  a  mine  of  thought.  Looking, 
now,  at  the  human  originators  of  this  teaching,  on  the 
human  side  alone,  on  the  prophets  of  the  old  dispen- 


366  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


Eation,  the  apostles,  and  the  Teacher  of  Nazareth,  how 
can  this  body  of  conceptions  be  accounted  for?  How 
did  Israelitish  seers,  some  of  whom  were  called  from 
the  plough,  how  did  fishermen  who  had  just  left  their 
nets,  how  did  a  young  villager  from  a  carpenter’s  shop 
in  Galilee,  arrive  at  these  doctrines  concerning  God, 
the  nature,  duty,  and  destiny  of  man,  ethical  obliga¬ 
tions,  the  method  of  obtaining  forgiveness  and  peace  of 
conscience,  and  all  the  other  topics  which  enter  into 
the  Christian  system?  Had  Palestinian  laborers,  who 
were  brought  up  to  tend  flocks,  or  cultivate  vineyards, 
unfolded  the  astronomic  system  in  advance  of  Coper¬ 
nicus,  it  would  be  thought  a  miracle.  Can  less  be  said 
of  that  moral  and  religious  system  which  has  drawn  to 
it,  and  even  now  engages,  the  thoughtful  study  of  the 
most  acute  intellects,  and  which  has  commended  itself 
to  the  most  of  them  for  many  centuries  as  far  more 
satisfactory  to  reason  than  all  that  was  contributed  by 
the  most  brilliant  minds  of  Greece  for  the  solving  of 
these  problems  ?  How  happens  it,  that,  in  intellectual 
value,  the  impassioned  utterances  of  Hebrew  seers,  the 
simple  sayings  of  unlettered  Jewish  preachers,  the 
aphorisms  of  the  youthful  Jesus,  who  was  a  stranger 
to  the  lore  of  even  rabbinical  schools,  so  far  outstrip 
the  consummate  products  of  philosophical  genius? 


CHAPTER  XV. 


JHS  ARGUMENT  FOR  CHRISTIANITY  FROM  CHRISTENDOM 
AS  AN  EFFECT  OF  CHRIST’S  AGENCY. 

Xot  the  supernatural  origin  of  a  religion,  nor  even 
its  truth,  can  be  decided  by  the  number  of  its  adher¬ 
ents:  else  Buddhism,  with  its  four  hundred  and  fifty 
millions,  would  hold  the  vantage-ground  over  against 
Christianity  with  its  four  hundred  millions ;  and  Mo¬ 
hammedanism,  with  its  one  hundred  and  seventy-five 
millions,  might  put  in  a  plausible  claim  to  a  higher  than 
human  derivation.  It  is  necessary  to  consider  in  what 
way  the  converts  of  a  religion  have  been  won.  Moham¬ 
medanism  was  a  fanatical  crusade  against  idolatry,  that 
achieved  its  success  by  the  sword  and  by  the  energy 
with  which  it  was  wielded.  Force  was  exerted,  to  some 
extent,  for  the  furtherance  of  Christianity  by  the  suc¬ 
cessors  of  Constantine ;  and  force  has  been  exerted  in 
other  instances,  like  that  of  the  conquest  of  the  Saxons 
by  Charlemagne :  yet  there  is  no  doubt  that  coer¬ 
cion —  which,  it  may  be  observed,  was  used  in  the 
cause  of  Buddhism  by  the  kings  who  3mbraced  it  — 
has,  on  the  whole,  hindered,  instead  of  helped  on,  the 
progress  of  the  gospel.  The  victory  of  the  religion  of 
the  cross  in  the  Roman  Empire  was  really  gained  by 
moral  means.  The  reactionary  movement  of  Julian 
proved  futile,  for  the  reason  that  the  faith  which  it  at¬ 
tempted  to  succor  had  been  smitten  with  death.  When 

we  consider  the  small  beginnings  of  Christianity,  in  its 

367 


368  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELTED 


Galilean  birthplace,  and  watch  its  progress  against  The 
organized  and  violent  opposition  of  Judaism,  wA 
the  successive  attempts  to  extirpate  it  made  by  imperial 
Rome,  from  the  cruelties  of  Nero  and  Domitian  to  the 
systematic  persecution  by  Diocletian,  its  triumph  over 
the  ancient  heathenism  excites  a  wonder  that  is  not 
lessened  by  the  theories  which  have  been  invented  to 
explain  it.  All  the  proximate  causes  of  the  down¬ 
fall  and  disappearance  of  the  Grceco-Roman  religion, 
through  the  preaching  of  the  gospel,  presuppose  behind 
them,  as  the  ultimate  cause,  the  personal  influence  of 
Jesus  Christ  and  of  his  life  and  death.  When  we  see  the 
same  gospel,  amid  the  ruins  of  the  Roman  Empire,  sub¬ 
duing  to  itself  the  victorious  barbarian  tribes  by  whom 
it  was  overthrowm,  we  gain  a  new  impression  of  the 
mysterious  efficacy  that  resides  in  it.  An  Asiatic  reli¬ 
gion  in  its  origin,  it  became  the  religion  of  Europe. 
Yet  its  adaptedness  to  races  beyond  the  limits  of  the 
Aryan  peoples  it  has  fully  demonstrated. 

But  in  order  to  complete  the  argument  for  the  truth 
and  divine  origin  of  Christianity,  drawn  from  its  effect, 
we  must  go  farther,  and  inquire  into  the  particular 
character  of  that  effect.  The  impression  which  the 
spread  of  the  other  religions  —  whether  the  national 
faiths,  like  the  native  religions  of  China,  or  the  univer¬ 
sal  systems,  Mohammedanism  and  Buddhism — might 
leave  upon  us,  is  largely  neutralized  when  we  mark  the 
character  and  limit  of  the  influence  exerted  by  them 
on  human  nature,  culture,  and  civilization.  We  may, 
to  be  sure,  recognize  enough  of  good  to  prove  that 
those  religions  inculcated  important  truths.  We  may 
discern  the  value  of  the  moral  and  religious  sentiments 
which  they  partially  express  and  respond  to.  But  the 
idea  that  any  of  those  religions  is  the  absolute  reli- 


CHRISTENDOM  AS  AN  EFFECT  OF  CHRIST. 


869 


gion,  or  the  religion  revealed  from  Heaven  to  he  the 
perpetual  light  of  men,  is  dispelled  the  moment  we 
find  that  the  work  wrought  by  them  upon  the  human 
soul  is  one-sided  and  defective,  and  that  their  final 
lesult  is  an  arrested  development.  The  individual  ia 
impeded  forward  to  a  certain  limit.  There  he  halts. 
Deterioration  even  may  ensue.  The  nation  feels  a 
transforming  agency  for  a  time,  hut  at  length  it 
reaches  an  impassable  barrier.  An  imperfect  civiliza¬ 
tion  becomes  petrified.  Christianity,  on  the  contrary, 
never  appears  to  have  exhausted  its  power.  It  moves 
in  advance,  and  beckons  forward  the  individual  and 
the  people  who  embrace  it.  When  it  is  misconceived, 
in  some  respect,  and  a  perverted  development  ensues, 
it  contains  in  it  a  rectifying  power.  It  forever  insti¬ 
gates  to  reform :  its  only  goal  is  perfection. 

We  are  not  to  forget,  of  course,  that  Christendom  is 
something  besides  a  religion.  It  is  composed  of  par¬ 
ticular  races ;  races  having  distinctive  traits,  which 
have  entered  as  one  factor  into  the  spiritual  life  and 
the  civilization  of  this  society  of  peoples.  They  have 
inherited  from  the  past,  especially  from  the  Roman 
Empire  and  the  cultivated  nations  of  antiquity,  invalu¬ 
able  elements  of  polity  and  culture.  The  Teutonic 
peoples  were  specially  hospitable  to  the  religion  of  the 
gospel.  They  were  docile,  as  well  as  strong.  They 
had  these  native  traits  to  begin  with :  they  received 
much,  besides  the  gift  of  Christian  faith,  from  those 
whom  they  conquered.  Yet  it  is  Christianity  which 
leavened  all.  It  is  Christianity  which  fused,  moulded, 
trained,  the  European  nations.  It  is  in  the  light  of 
Christianity  that  their  vigorous  life  unfolded  itself.  In 
that  light  it  still  flourishes. 

Jesus  Christ  brought  into  the  world  a  new  ideal  of 


370  THE  GROUPS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


man,  —  man  individual  and  man  social.  This  was  not 
all.  Had  this  been  all,  the  condition  of  men  might  not 
have  been  materially  altered.  He  brought  in  at  the 
same  time  a  force  adequate  to  effect  —  though  not  magi¬ 
cally,  but  by  slow  degrees  —  the  realization  of  this  ideal. 
It  is  in  this  double  character,  —  in  the  perfection  of  the 
moral  ideal,  and  in  the  wonderful  stimulus  to  the  prac¬ 
tical  realization  of  it,  —  that  the  transcendent  superi¬ 
ority  of  the  Christian  religion  is  manifest.  The  sages 
of  antiquity  presented  high  though  always  imperfect 
conceptions  of  what  man  and  society  should  be;  but 
those  conceptions  remained  inoperative.  They  did  not 
avail  for  the  elevation  of  many  individuals  even.  Their 
effect  on  social  and  political  life  was  small.  Culture 
was  attained  by  the  intellectual  and  versatile  Greek, 
but  the  ideal  of  manhood  was  faulty.  There  was  no 
life-giving  force  to  save  the  Greek  from  degeneracy  and 
corruption.  No  more  was  there  a  saving  power  in 
the  law  and  polity  which  Rome  created.  Neither 
Greek  learning  and  philosophy,  nor  Roman  politics  and 
jurisprudence,  could  rescue  mankind  from  degradation, 
or  even  avail  to  perpetuate  themselves. 

With  Christ  there  came  in  a  nobler  ideal  and  a  force 
to  lift  men  up  to  it.  That  force  resided  in  Jesus  him¬ 
self.  The  central  thought  of  Jesus  was  religion,  — -  man’s 
relation  to  God.  Take  out  this  idea  of  man’s  true 
life  as  consisting  in  that  filial  relation  to  the  heavenly 
Father,  and  the  vital  principle  is  gone  from  the  system 
of  Jesus.  The  sources  of  its  power  are  dried  up;  the 
root  is  dead,  and  the  branches  wither  away. 

For  with  this  idea  is  inseparably  connected  his  esti¬ 
mate  of  the  worth  of  the  soul.  Every  individual, 
according  to  the  teaching  of  Christ,  has  an  incalculable 
worth.  This  does  not  depend  on  his  outward  condition. 


CHRISTENDOM  AS  AN  EFFECT  OF  CHRIST. 


871 


Lazarus,  the  beggar  at  the  gate,  was  on  a  footing  of 
equality  with  Dives  at  his  luxurious  table.  To  the 
surprise  of  the  disciples,  Jesus  conversed  with  the  peas¬ 
ant-woman  at  the  well.  What  was  a  woman,  and  a 
poor  woman,  even  a  depraved  woman,  that  the  Master 
should  waste  time  in  order  to  enlighten  her?  Little 
children  he  took  in  his  arms  when  the  disciples  “  for¬ 
bade  them.”  It  was  not  the  will  of  the  Father  that  one 
of  these  little  ones  should  perish.  The  transgressor  of 
human  and  divine  law,  the  male  or  female  outcast  —  he 
saw  in  each  something  of  imperishable  value.  With 
this  idea  of  the  worth  of  man,  there  is  associated  the 
recognition  of  every  individual  as  an  end  in  himself. 
No  man  is  made  merely  to  enhance  the  interests,  or 
minister  to  the  gratification,  of  another  man.  “Thou 
shalt  love  thy  neighbor  as  thyself.”  He  is  the  greatest 
who  serves  most,  in  the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice.  For  one 
man  to  use  another  man  or  a  woman  as  an  instrument 
of  his  own  pleasure  or  advancement  is  an  act  of  incon¬ 
ceivable  cruelty  and  baseness.  The  equality  of  men 
as  regards  worth  or  value,  be  their  talents,  property, 
station,  power,  or  condition  in  any  particular,  what 
they  may,  is  a  cardinal  truth.  It  is  an  inference  from 
their  common  relation,  as  creatures  and  children,  to  God, 
and  from  the  common  benefit  of  redemption,  in  which 
all  alike  share.  In  the  community  of  God’s  children 
there  was  no  distinction  of  bondman  or  freeman,  rich 
or  poor,  male  or  female,  Greek  or  Barbarian.  All  —  be 
their  nationality  that  of  the  strong  and  intellectual 
branches  of  mankind,  or  of  those  little  esteemed ;  be 
their  lot  among  the  prosperous  or  the  unfortunate  — 
stand  on  a  level.  They  are  “  brethren.” 

The  Christian  ideal  embraced  the  sanctification  of 
the  entire  life.  It  did  not  subvert  established  relations 


372  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 

between  man  and  man,  as  far  as  they  were  conformed 
to  nature  and  right.  It  infused  into  them  a  new  spirit. 
It  set  to  work  to  purify  the  family  and  the  state,  and 
to  raise  each  of  these  institutions  to  the  ideal  standard. 
Each  was  to  be  made  to  fulfd  its  true  function,  and  to 
become  an  agent  of  the  highest  possible  beneficence. 

One  of  the  great  changes  which  Christianity  made, 
and  is  making,  in  the  family,  is  the  abolition  of  domes* 
tic  tyranny.  The  authority  of  the  father  in  ancient 
Rome,  as  in  many  other  nations,  was  without  limit. 
As  far  as  restraints  of  law  were  concerned,  he  was  a 
despot  in  the  household.  He  had  over  its  members  the 
right  to  inflict  death.  From  the  time  of  the  introduc¬ 
tion  of  Christianity,  the  authority  of  the  father  began 
to  be  reduced.  The  paternal  prerogative,  the  patria 
potestas  was  curtailed  in  the  Roman  law  in  the  second 
century.  The  Stoic  ethical  teaching  contributed  to 
this  result,  as  to  other  humane  reforms.  How  far  the 
milder  sentiments  prevalent  among  the  Stoics  in  the 
early  Christian  centuries  were  unconsciously  imbibed 
from  the  gospel,  which  was  already  active  in  modifying 
the  atmosphere  of  thought  and  feeling,  is  a  question 
difficult  to  settle.  This  is  certain,  that  Christian  teach¬ 
ing  from  the  beginning  tended  strongly  to  such  a  re¬ 
sult,  and  evidently,  at  a  later  date,  had  a  powerful 
effect.  The  position  of  the  wife  in  relation  to  the  hus¬ 
band’s  will  and  control,  the  more  Christianity  gained 
influence,  was  wholly  changed  for  the  better.  The  free¬ 
dom  of  divorce  which  existed  by  Roman  law  and  custom 
found  in  the  precepts  of  Christ  and  in  the  teaching  of 
the  Church  a  stern  rebuke.  The  wife  could  no  longer  be 
discarded  in  obedience  to  the  husband’s  caprice.  Mar¬ 
riage  became  a  sacred  bond,  —  a  bond,  except  for  one 
cause,  indissoluble.  Oi  the  immeasurable  influence 


CHRISTENDOM  AS  AN  EFFECT  OF  CHRIS'!. 


873 


which  the  religion  of  Jesus  has  exerted  in  shielding  the 
purity  of  woman,  it  is  needless  to  speak.  The  power 
which  the  unsparing  injunctions  of  thi  Sermon  on  the 
Mount  have  exercised  for  the  defence  of  the  helpless  and 
innocent  against  lawless  passion,  it  would  be  impossible 
to  estimate.  As  fast  as  Christianity  spread,  respect  for 
the  rights  of  woman  extended.  The  more  deeply  Chris* 
fianity  leavens  society,  the  more  does  all  unjust  discrim* 
ination  in  laws  and  social  customs,  by  which  the  rights 
and  privileges  of  women  have  been  abridged,  disappear. 
The  words  of  Jesus  on  the  cross,  when  he  committed 
his  mother  to  the  care  of  John,  have  inspired  in  all  sub¬ 
sequent  ages  a  tender  feeling  for  the  sorrows  of  woman. 
If  reverence  for  the  Virgin  was  at  length  exaggerated, 
and  became  a  hurtful  superstition,  that  unauthorized 
worship  was  connected  with  a  sentiment  towards  the 
wife  and  mother  which  genuine  Christianity  fosters. 

The  State  is  the  second  great  institution  having  a  di¬ 
vine  sanction,  and  springing  out  of  essential  tendencies 
and  needs  of  human  nature.  It  is  one  of  the  most  re¬ 
markable  features  of  Christianity,  and  one  of  the  marked 
signs  that  a  wisdom  higher  than  that  of  man  was  con¬ 
cerned  in  it,  that  from  the  first  it  asserted  the  inviola¬ 
ble  authority  of  the  civil  magistracy.  There  was  all 
the  temptation  that  religious  zeal  could  afford  to  cast 
off  the  rule  of  the  State.  This  temptation  was  aggra¬ 
vated  a  thousand-fold  by  the  circumstance  that  against 
the  early  Christians  the  civil  powers  arrayed  themselves 
in  mortal  antipathy.  Yet  from  the  beginning  the  in¬ 
junction  was  to  honor  the  ruler.  Nay,  he  was  declared 
to  be  the  minister  of  God  for  the  execution  of  justice. 
Civil  government  was  affirmed  to  be  a  part  and  instru¬ 
ment  of  God’s  moral  government  of  mankind.  Chris¬ 
tians  were  to  pray  for  the  ruler  at  the  very  time  when 


374  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

Nero  was  burning  them  alive.  No  priestly  usurpation 
in  later  periods,  when  it  was  carried  to  its  height, 
was  ever  able  to  obliterate  from  the  Christian  mind 
the  feeling  of  obligation  to  obey  the  magistrate,  and  the 
conviction  that  the  powers  that  be  are  ordained  of  God. 
Christianity  exalted  justice,  and  revered  the  State  as 
its  divinely  appointed  upholder  between  man  and  man. 
Christianity  honored  rightful  authority,  and  recognized 
it  as  inhering  in  the  rulers  of  a  political  community. 

At  the  same  time,  the  religion  of  Christ  brought  in 
liberty.  Wherever  it  has  been  understood  aright,  it  has 
been  the  most  powerful  champion  and  safeguard  of 
natural  and  political  rights.  In  heathen  antiquity  the 
State  was  supreme,  and  practically  omnipotent.  The 
individual  was  absorbed  in  the  political  body  of  which 
he  was  a  member.  To  that  body  he  owed  unlimited 
allegiance.  There  was  no  higher  law  than  the  behest 
of  the  State.  Socrates  is  one  instance  of  an  individual 
refusing  to  obey  a  prohibition  of  the  State,  out  of  def¬ 
erence  to  the  Divine  Will.  He  would  not  promise  to 
refrain  from  teaching  when  he  might  have  saved  his 
life  by  doing  so.  We  meet  here  and  there  with  a 
shining  example  of  one  who  was  ready  to  disregard  a 
civil  mandate  which  required  of  him  some  flagrant  act 
of  injustice.  But  these  are  exceptions  that  prove  the 
rule.  They  are  anticipations  of  a  better  era  than  ex¬ 
isted,  or  could  exist,  as  long  as  polytheism  was  domi¬ 
nant,  and  while  there  was  no  broader  form  of  social 
unity  than  the  civil  community.  Christianity  founded 
a  new  kingdom.  It  was  a  kingdom  not  of  this  world ; 
but  it  was  a  real  sovereignty,  which  was  felt  to  be 
supreme  over  all  human  enactments.  The  first  preach¬ 
ers  of  the  gospel  were  obliged  to  obey  God  rather  than 
man.  The  early  Christia  is  had  to  disobey  the  laws  and 


CHRISTENDOM  AS  AN  EFFECT  OF  CHRIST. 


875 


decrees  of  the  Jewish  and  the  Roman  authorities.  It 
was  a  new  thing  when  prisoners  who  were  brought 
before  Roman  prefects,  and  commanded  to  worship  the 
image  of  the  emperor,  or  to  curse  Christ,  refused,  and 
persistently  refused,  to  do  so.  Such  contumacy,  such 
insubordination,  struck  these  administrators  of  law  as  a 
marvel  of  audacity  and  of  treasonable  hostility  to  the 
supreme  authority.  By  this  means,  through  the  higher 
allegiance  to  the  revealed  will  of  God  which  Christian¬ 
ity  made  a  wide-spread,  practical  fact,  the  power  of  the 
state,  up  to  that  time  virtually  boundless,  was  cut  down 
to  reasonable  proportions.  The  precepts  of  the  State 
were  subjected  to  the  private  judgment  of  the  subject. 
The  individual  decided  whether  or  not  they  were  con¬ 
sistent  with  the  laws  of  the  King  of  kings.  He  in¬ 
quired  whether  they  enjoined  what  God  had  forbidden, 
or  forbade  what  God  had  enjoined.  The  eternal  laws 
of  justice  and  right,  of  which  Sophocles  wrote  in  the 
highest  strain  of  Greek  religious  thought,  became,  in 
the  Christian  Church,  the  every-day,  absolute  arbiter  of 
conduct.  There  might  spring  up  a  new  despotism. 
There  might  grow  up  an  ecclesiastical  authority  not 
less  tyrannical  than  the  State  had  been.  But  this  could 
only  be  a  temporary  abuse  and  perversion.  Christian 
truth  could  not  be  permanently  eclipsed.  Meantime, 
even  in  the  days  when  ecclesiastical  control  over  the 
individual  was  overgrown,  it  still  afforded  a  most  whole¬ 
some  check  to  the  unrestrained  power  of  chieftains  and 
kings.  The  Papacy,  in  the  periods  when  it  mistakenly 
strove  to  govern  the  laity  with  an  absolute  sway,  and 
even  to  build  up  a  universal  monarchy  of  its  own,  a 
spiritual  despotism,  did,  nevertheless,  do  a  vast  service 
in  its  unceasing  assertion  of  a  spiritual  law  above  the 
will  of  any  man,  however  strong,  and  the  right  of  spir 


376  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


itual  ideas  to  prevail  over  brute  force.  Guizot,  speak' 
ing  of  the  period  which  ensued  upon  the  fall  of  the 
Western  Empire,  says,  “Had  the  Christian  Chuich  not 
existed,  the  whole  world  must  have  been  abandoned 
to  purel}’  material  force.” 1  When  Christianity  had 
liberated  the  human  mind  from  the  yoke  of  secular 
power,  it  proved  itself  enlightened  enough  and  strong 
enough  to  emancipate  it  from  the  yoke  of  the  ecclesi¬ 
astical  institution  through  which,  in  great  part,  that 
deliverance  had  been  achieved. 

Looking  at  the  constitution  of  the  State  itself,  we  see 
plainly  how  Christianity  has  introduced,  and  tends  to 
introduce,  a  just  measure  of  political  liberty,  and  a  fair 
distribution  of  political  power.  The  constitution  of 
the  Church  as  its  Founder  established  it,  the  fraternal 
equality  of  its  members,  the  mutual  respect  for  opinion 
and  preference  which  was  enjoined,  the  forbidding  of 
a  lordship  like  that  which  existed  in  secular  society  — 
all  tended  strongly  to  bring  analogous  ideas  and  par* 
allel  relations  into  the  civil  community.  Liberty  was 
prized  by  the  ancients;  but  what  sort  of  liberty?  At 
Athens,  the  citizens  were  but  a  handful  compared  with 
the  entire  population.  In  Rome,  citizenship  was  a  priv¬ 
ilege  jealously  guarded  by  the  select  possessors  of  it. 
When,  at  last,  political  equality  was  attained,  it  was 
through  the  absolute  rule  of  the  emperors,  after  liberty 
had  vanished.  Christianity  presents  no  abstract  pat¬ 
tern  of  civil  society.  It  prescribes  no  such  doctrine 
as  that  of  universal  suffrage.  But  Christianity,  by  the 
respect  which  it  pays  to  man  as  man,  by  its  antipathy 
to  unjust  or  artificial  distinctions,  by  its  whole  genius 
and  spirit,  favors  those  forms  of  polity  in  which  all  men 
of  competent  intelligence,  who  have  a  stake  in  the  well- 

1  Lectures  on  the  History  of  Civilization,  chap.  ii.  p.  38. 


CHivIb  i  EN  DOM  AS  AN  EFFECT  OF  CHRIST. 


377 


being  of  the  community,  are  allowed  to  have  some  voice 
in  its  government.  So  far,  Christianity  is  not  a  neutral 
in  the  contests  relative  to  political  rights  and  privi¬ 
leges.  As  concerns  natural  -rights,  which  are  always 
to  be  carefully  distinguished  from  political,  the  religion 
of  Christ  continually  cries  out  against  every  violation 
of  justice  in  the  laws  and  institutions  of  society.  Tlni 
Golden  Rule  it  holds  to  be  not  less  applicable  to  those 
acts  of  the  community  which  determine  the  relations 
of  its  members  to  one  another  than  to  the  private  inter¬ 
course  of  individuals.  Who  that  examines  the  govern¬ 
ments  of  Christian  nations  to-day  can  fail  to  see  what 
a  mighty  influence  Christianity  has  already  exerted  in 
moulding  civil  society  into  a  conformity  with  human 
rights  and  with  the  rational  conception  of  equality  ? 

Christianity  fundamentally  alters  the  view  which  is 
taken  of  international  relations.  Slowly,  but  steadily, 
it  makes  mankind  feel  that  injustice  is  not  less  base 
when  exercised  between  nation  and  nation  than  be¬ 
tween  man  and  man.  Prior  to  the  Christian  era,  the 
more  closely  the  members  of  a  tribe  or  people  were 
bound  together,  the  more  regardless  they  generally 
were  of  the  rights  and  the  welfare  of  all  beyond  their 
borders.  Pretexts  were  easily  found  —  very  often  they 
were  not  even  sought  —  for  enterprises  of  conquest 
and  pillage.  As  intercourse  increased,  and  commerce 
spread,  there  was  required  some  mutual  recognition 
of  rights.  Covenants  were  made,  and  sometimes  were 
kept.  Occasional  glimpses  of  a  better  order  of  things, 
in  which  mankind  should  be  regarded  as  a  kind  of 
confederacy,  were  gained  by  Stoic  philosophers.  Such 
ideas  were  now  and  then  thrown  out  by  rhetorical 
writers  on  politics  and  morals,  like  Cicero.  But  in¬ 
ternational  law  existed  only  in  its  rudiments.  Selfish- 


378  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 

ness  was  the  practical  rule  of  national  conduct.  TLe 
strong  domineered  over  the  weak.  Christianity  subor¬ 
dinated  even  patriotism  to  the  law  of  righteousness 
and  human  brotherhood.  It  insisted  on  the  respon¬ 
sibility  of  the  nation,  in  its  corporate  capacity,  to  God, 
the  Father  of  all.  It  held  up  a  nobler  ideal  for  the 
regulation  of  nations  in  their  mutual  intercourse.  It 
need  not  be  said  how  much  remains  to  be  done  in 
order  that  the  Christian  law  should  be  even  approxi¬ 
mately  carried  out.  Yet  the  contrast  between  the 
Christendom  of  to-day  and  the  spectacle  presented  by 
the  tribes  and  nations  of  antiquity  is  like  the  contrast 
between  winter  and  spring.  In  the  middle  ages,  the 
Church,  as  an  organized  body,  through  the  clergy, 
undertook  to  pacify  contention,  and  curb  the  appetite 
for  aggression.  Vast  good  was  accomplished,  but  a 
new  species  of  tyranny  incidentally  came  in.  In  mod¬ 
ern  days,  equitable  treaties,  amicable  negotiations,  and, 
above  all,  arbitration,  are  resorted  to  for  the  settlement 
of  disputes,  the  redress  of  wrongs,  and  the  prevention 
of  war.  Christianity  does  not  absolutely  forbid  war, 
as  it  does  not  prohibit,  but  rather  approves,  the  use 
of  force  for  the  maintenance  of  law  within  the  limits  of 
each  community.  But  against  all  wars  of  aggression, 
against  all  wars  which  might  have  been  avoided  by 
forbearance  and  reasonable  concession,  the  religion  of 
Jesus  lifts  up  a  warning  voice,  which  is  more  and  more 
heard.  A  glance  at  the  history  of  Christianity,  and  at 
the  present  condition  of  the  world,  makes  it  manifest 
that  a  mighty  force  is  incessantly  at  work  in  the  bosom 
of  mankind,  which  promises  at  last  to  bring  in  an  era 
when  righteousness  shall  prevail  in  the  dealings  of  the 
nations  with  one  another,  and  men  shall  learn  war  no 


more. 


CHRISTENDOM  AS  AN  EFFECT  OF  CHRIST. 


879 


The  work  which  Christianity  has  done  in  the  cause 
of  charity,  of  kindness  and  beneficence,  constitutes  a 
topic  of  extreme  interest.  There  was  charity  before 
the  gospel.  Men  were  never  brutes.  There  was  com¬ 
passion  ;  there  was  a  recognized  duty  of  hospitality  to 
strangers.  Among  the  Greeks,  Jupiter  was  the  pro¬ 
tector  of  strangers  and  suppliants.  There  were  not 
absolutely  wanting  combined  efforts  in  doing  good. 
Institutions  of  charity  have  not  been  entirely  unknown 
in  heathen  nations.  In  China  there  have  long  existed,  in 
the  different  provinces,  hospitals  for  two  classes,  —  for 
old  people  and  for  foundlings.  In  ancient  times  men 
were  not  indisposed  to  befriend  their  own  countrymen. 
This  was  pre-eminently  true  of  the  Jews.  Among 
the  heathen,  in  various  towns  of  the  Roman  Empire, 
physicians  were  appointed  by  the  municipality,  whose 
business  it  was  to  wait  on  the  poor  as  well  as  on  the 
rich.  Yet,  when  all  this  is  justly  considered,  the  fact 
remains,  that  charity  was  comparatively  an  unmeaning 
word  until  Christianity  appeared.  Largesses  bestowed 
on  the  multitude  by  emperors  and  demagogues  were 
from  other  motives  than  a  desire  to  relieve  distress. 
Considerations  of  policy  had  a  large  part  in  such  bene¬ 
factions  as  those  of  Nerva  and  Trajan  for  poor  children 
and  orphans.  Nothing  effectual  was  done  to  check  the 
dime  of  infanticide,  which  had  the  sanction  of  philos¬ 
ophers  of  highest  repute.  The  rescue  of  foundlings 
was  often  the  infliction  upon  them,  especially  upon  the 
females,  of  a  lot  worse  than  death.  Gladiatorial  fights 
—  -  the  pastime  which  spread  over  the  Roman  Empire  in 
its  flourishing  days,  and  against  which  hardly  a  voice 
was  ever  raised  —  could  not  fail  to  harden  the  spectators, 
who  learned  to  feast  their  eyes  on  the  sight  of  human 
agony. 


380  HIE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

Fiom  tLe  beginning,  the  outflow  of  charity  was  natu¬ 
ral  to  Christians.  God  had  so  loved  the  world,  that  he 
gave  his  Son.  Christ  loved  men,  and  gave  himself  for 
them.  The  Christian  principle  was  love,  and  love  was 
expressed  in  giving  liberally  to  those  in  need.  The  dis¬ 
ciples  at  Jerusalem  were  so  generous  in  their  gifts  to 
the  poor  of  their  number,  that  they  are  said  to  have 
‘Ciad  all  things  in  common ;  ”  although  other  passages 
in  the  Acts  prove  that  there  was  no  actual  communism, 
and  Christianity  never  impugned  in  the  least  the  rights 
of  property.  Wherever  a  church  was  established,  there 
were  abundant  offerings  regularly  made  for  the  poor, 
systematic  provisions  for  the  care  of  the  sick,  of  orphans, 
and  of  all  other  classes  who  required  aid.  Gifts  were 
poured  out,  even  for  the  help  of  Christians  in  distant 
places,  without  stint.  In  the  second  and  third  centu¬ 
ries,  there  were  scattered  all  over  the  Roman  world 
these  Christian  societies,  whose  members  were  bound 
together  as  one  family,  each  taking  pleasure  in  reliev¬ 
ing  the  wants  of  every  other.  Through  their  bishops 
and  other  officers,  there  was  a  systematic  alms-giving  on 
a  scale  for  which  no  precedent  had  ever  before  existed. 
Nor  was  it  indiscriminate,  or  in  a  way  to  encourage 
idleness,  as  it  too  often  was,  even  when  the  motive  was 
laudable,  in  the  middle  ages.  There  is  an  exhortation 
of  the  Apostle  Paul,  in  which  the  spirit  of  the  gospel, 
as  it  actually  embodied  itself  in  the  early  Church,  is 
impressively  indicated.  “  Let  him  that  stole  steal  no 
more :  but  rather  let  him  labor,  working  with  his  hands 
the  thing  which  is  good,  that  he  may  have  to  give  to 
him  that  needeth.”  1  There  were  reclaimed  thieves  in 
the  church  at  Ephesus.  The  apostle  urges  them  to  in¬ 
dustry  in  order  that  they  may  have  the  means  of  aiding 

1  Eph.  iv.  28. 


CHRISTENDOM  AS  AN  EFFECT  OF  CHRIST.  381 

those  in  want.  Nothing  could  better  set  before  us  the 
influence  of  the  new  religion.  The  Apostolic  Consti¬ 
tutions,  which  disclose  the  rules  followed  among  the 
churches  as  early  as  the  Nicene  age,  ordain  that  the 
poor  man  shall  be  assisted,  not  according  to  his  expec¬ 
tations,  but  in  proportion  to  his  real  needs,  of  which 
the  bishops  and  deacons  are  to  judge  ;  and  to  be  assisted 
in  such  a  way  as  best  to  secure  his  temporal  and  spir¬ 
itual  good.1  It  is  added,  “  God  hates  the  lazy.”  The 
exercise  of  discrimination,  and  of  care  not  to  foster  idle¬ 
ness,  is  a  frequent  theme  of  exhortation  during  several 
centuries.  Asylums  for  orphans,  hospitals  for  the  siclr 
sprang  into  being  under  the  auspices  of  the  Church. 
In  process  of  time  noscomia ,  or  hospitals  for  the  dis¬ 
eased,  including  the  insane,  were  founded  in  all  tho 
principal  cities,  and  even  in  smaller  towns,  and  in  some 
country-places.  Nor  did  the  vast  stream  of  benefaction 
flow  out  for  the  help  of  Christians  alone.  When  pests 
broke  out,  as  at  Alexandria  in  the  third  century,  and 
somewhat  earlier  at  Carthage,  the  Christians,  under  the 
lead  of  their  clergy,  instead  of  forsaking  the  victims  of 
disease,  or  driving  them  from  their  houses,  as  the 
heathen  did,  showed  their  courage  and  compassion  by 
personally  ministering  to  them.  The  parable  of  the 
Good  Samaritan  had  not  been  uttered  in  vain.  Among 
the  numerous  recorded  examples  of  charity  to  the 
heathen  is  the  act  of  Atticus,  Archbishop  of  Constan¬ 
tinople  (A.D.  406-A.D.  426),  who,  during  a  famine  in 
Nieea,  sent  three  hundred  pieces  of  gold  to  the  presby¬ 
ter  Calliopius.  This  almoner  was  directed  to  distribute 
it  among  the  suffering  who  were  ashamed  to  beg,  with¬ 
out  distinction  of  faith.  Acacius,  Bishop  of  Amida, 

i  Const.  Apost.,  iv.  5,  iii.  4, 12-14.  See  Ohastel’s  The  Charity  of  tho 
Primitive  Churches,  p.  79. 


882  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


about  A.D.  420,  persuaded  his  clergy  to  sell  the  gold 
and  silver  vessels  of  the  church,  that  he  might  ransom 
several  thousands  of  suffering  Persian  captives  who  had 
been  taken  by  the  Romans.  On  one  occasion  Chrysos¬ 
tom,  passing  through  the  streets  of  Antioch,  on  his  way 
to  the  cathedral,  saw  a  multitude  of  poor,  distressed 
persons.  He  read  to  his  audience  the  sixteenth  chapter 
of  First  Corinthians.  Then  he  described  the  blind,  the 
crippled,  and  diseased  throng  which  he  had  just  seen, 
and  proceeded  to  exhort  his  hearers  to  exercise  towards 
their  “brothers”  the  compassion  which  they  themselves 
had  need  of  at  the  hands  of  God.1  “  Christian  charity 
extended  over  all  the  surface  of  the  empire,  like  a  vast 
tissue  of  benevolence.  There  was  no  city,  no  hamlet, 
which,  with  its  church  and  its  priest,  had  not  its  treas¬ 
ure  for  the  poor ;  no  desert  which  had  not  its  hospit¬ 
able  convent  for  travellers.  The  compassion  of  the 
Church  was  open  to  all.”  2 

These  meagre  references  to  the  charitable  work  of 
the  early  Church  may  call  to  mind  the  miracle  that 
Christianity  wrought  in  penetrating  the  human  heart 
with  a  spirit  of  kindness,  the  like  to  which  the  world 
before  had  never  known.  That  same  spirit,  not  always 
discreetly  it  may  be,  has  been  operative  among  Chris¬ 
tian  nations  ever  since.  It  is  ever  detecting  forms  of 
human  want  and  infirmity  which  have  not  been  previ¬ 
ously  noticed,  and  devising  for  them  relief.  No  supe¬ 
rior  prudence  in  administering  charity,  derived  from 
social  and  economic  science,  could  have  ever  called  into 
being,  nor  can  it  ever  dispense  with,  that  temper  of  un¬ 
selfish  pity  and  love  out  of  which  the  charities  of  Chris¬ 
tian  people,  age  after  age,  have  continued  to  flow.  In 
this  feature  of  beneficence,  the  Christendom  of  to-day, 

1  Opp.,  vol.  iii.  p.  248  aeq.  See  Chastel,  p.  159.  2  Chastel,  p  304 


CHRISTENDOM  AS  AN  EFFECT  OF  CIlIlISrJ . 


383 


contrasted  with  lieathe.i  society  of  any  age,  is  like  a 
garden  full  of  fruits  and  flowers  by  the  side  of  a  desert. 

Christianity  is  the  only  known  corrective  of  the  evils 
out  of  which  socialism  arises.  The  enrichment  of  the 
few,  and  the  impoverishing  of  the  many,  can  be  reme¬ 
died  by  no  infraction  of  the  right  of  property ;  which 
would  bring  back  barbarism.  The  only  antidote  is  to 
be  found  in  that  spirit  of  beneficence  which  prompted 
Zacclieus  to  give  half  of  his  goods  to  feed  the  poor. 
That  spirit,  when  it  prevails,  will  dictate  such  arrange¬ 
ments  between  capitalist  and  laborer  as  will  secure  to 
the  latter  a  fair  return  for  his  toil.  It  will  check  the 
vast  accumulation  of  wealth  in  a  few  individuals.  And 
the  Christian  spirit,  as  in  ancient  days,  will  inspire  pa¬ 
tience  and  contentment,  and  a  better  than  an  earthlv 
hope,  in  the  minds  of  the  class  whose  lot  in  life  is  hard. 

In  speaking  of  the  improvement  of  society  through 
the  agency  of  Christianity,  it  is  natural  for  us  to  think 
of  the  two  great  scourges  of  mankind,  —  war  and  slave¬ 
ry.  Iniquitous  wars  are  undertaken  in  modern  days. 
Yet,  if  we  compare  the  motives  that  lead  to  warfare 
now  with  those  which  in  ancient  times  filled  the  world 
with  incessant  strife,  we  cannot  but  perceive  a  vast  and 
salutary  change.  The  laws  and  usages  of  war  have 
felt  the  humanizing  touch  of  the  gospel.  The  manner 
in  which  non-combatants  are  treated  is  a  signal  illustra¬ 
tion.  Once  they  were  at  the  mercy  of  the  conqueror, 
who  too  often  knew  no  mercy.  Their  lives  were  for¬ 
feited.  Reduction  to  slavery  was  a  mitigation  of  the 
penalty  which  it  was  lawful  to  inflict  on  them,  A 
military  commander  who  should  treat  his  prisoners  as 
commanders  like  Julius  Caesar,  who  were  thought  in 
their  time  to  be  humane,  treated  them,  would  be  an 
object  of  universal  execration.  A  like  change  has 


384  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


taken  place,  even  as  regards  the  property  of  a  conquered 
belligerent.  The  extinction  of  a  nationality  like  Po¬ 
land,  even  when  arguments  in  favor  of  it  are  not  wholly 
destitute  of  weight,  is  a  dark  blot  on  the  reputation  of 
the  sovereigns  or  nations  by  whom  it  is  effected.  For¬ 
merly  it  would  be  the  expected  and  approved  result  of 
a  successful  war.  In  the  provisions  now  made  for  the 
care  and  cure  of  the  wounded,  for  the  health  and  com¬ 
fort  of  the  common  soldier,  including  the  voluntary 
labors  of  devoted  physicians  and  nurses,  we  perceive  a 
product  of  Christian  feeling.  The  Romans  had  their 
soldiers’  hospitals  ( valetudinaria )  ;  but  the  vast  and 
varied  work  of  philanthropy  in  this  direction  which 
belongs  to  our  time  was  something  of  which  no  man 
dreamed. 

Ancient  slavery  was  generally  the  servitude  of  men 
of  the  same  race  as  the  master.  It  involved  the  forfeit¬ 
ure  of  almost  all  rights  on  the  part  of  the  slave.  It 
was  attended  with  a  kind  and  degree  of  cruelty  which 
the  intelligence  of  the  victims,  and  the  danger  of  revolt 
resulting  from  it,  seemed  to  require,  if  the  system  was 
to  be  kept  up.  In  extensive  regions  it  had  the  effect, 
finally,  almost  to  abolish  free  labor,  to  bring  landed 
property  into  the  hands  of  a  few  proprietors,  to  ener¬ 
vate  the  Roman  spirit,  and  thus  to  pave  the  way  for  the 
downfall  of  the  empire  through  the  energy  of  uncivilized 
but  more  vigorous  races.  Christianity  found  slavery 
everywhere.  It  preached  no  revolution ;  it  brought 
forward  no  abstract  political  or  social  theory :  t  ut  it 
undermined  slavery  by  the  expulsive  force  of  the  new 
principle  of  impartial  justice,  and  self-denying  love, 
and  fraternal  equality,  which  it  inculcated.  From  the 
beginning  it  counselled  patience  and  quiet  endurance ; 
but  it  demanded  fairness  and  kindness  of  the  master, 


CHRISTENDOM  AS  AN  EFFECT  OF  CHRIST.  385 

brought  master  and  slave  together  at  the  common  table 
of  the  lord,  and  encouraged  emancipation.  The  law  of 
Constantine  (A.D.  321),  which  forbade  all  civil  acts  on 
Sunday,  except  the  emancipation  of  slaves,  was  in  keep¬ 
ing  with  all  his  legislation  on  the  subject  of  slavery. 
It  is  a  true  index  of  the  state  of  feeling  which  is  mani¬ 
fest  in  the  discourses  of  the  eminent  teachers  of  the 
Church  of  that  period.  Ancient  slavery,  and,  after¬ 
wards,  serfdom  in  the  mediaeval  age,  disappeared  under 
the  steady  influence  of  Christian  sentiment.  The  re¬ 
vival  of  slavery  in  modern  times  has  been  followed  by 
a  like  result  under  the  same  agency.  A  century  ago 
the  slave-trade  on  the  coast  of  Africa  was  approved  by 
Protestant  Christians.  At  first,  after  his  conversion, 
John  Newton,  the  pastor  of  Cowper,  did  not  condemn 
it.  But  at  length  the  perception  dawned  on  his  mind, 
and  became  a  deep  conviction,  that  the  capture  and  en¬ 
slavement  of  human  beings  is  unchristian.  The  same 
conviction  entered  other  minds.  It  grew  and  spread, 
until,  in  the  treaties  of  leading  nations,  the  slave-trade 
has  been  declared  to  be  piracy.  This  amazing  change 
was  not  wrought  by  a  new  revelation.  It  was  the 
effect  of  the  steady  shining  of  the  light  of  Christian 
truth  long  ago  recorded  in  the  Scriptures. 

If  it  were  practicable  to  dwell  upon  the  varied  con¬ 
sequences  of  the  religion  of  Christ  as  they  are  seen  in 
the  actual  state  of  Christian  civilization,  we  should 
have  to  trace  out  the  modifications  of  political  science] 
under  the  benign  influence  of  the  gospel,  che  trans¬ 
forming  effect  of  Christian  ethics  in  such  departments 
as  prison  discipline  and  penal  law,  the  new  spirit  that 
breathes  in  modern  literature,  which  emanates  from 
Christian  ideas  of  human  nature,  of  forgiveness,  and  of 
things  supernatural,  —  a  spirit  which  is  vividly  felt 


386  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


when  one  passes  from  the  dramas  of  Shakspeare  to  the 
dramas  of  iEschylus,  — -  the  way  in  which  the  arts  of 
music,  painting,  and  sculpture,  have  developed  new 
types  of  beauty  and  harmony  from  contact  with  the 
Christian  faith,  the  indirect  power  of  Christianity  in 
piomoting  discoveries  and  inventions  that  conduce  to 
health  and  material  comfort,  the  softening  influence 
of  Christianity  upon  manners  and  social  intercourse. 
But  the  topic  is  too  broad  to  be  farther  pursued. 

To  appreciate  the  magnitude  of  the  results  of  Chris¬ 
tianity,  one  must  bear  in  mind  that  they  do  not  consist 
alone  or  chiefly  in  external  changes.  There  is  a  trans¬ 
formation  of  thought  and  feeling.  The  very  texture 
of  the  spirits  of  men  is  not  what  it  was.  The  con¬ 
science  and  the  imagination,  the  standards  of  judgment, 
the  ideals  of  character,  the  ends  and  aims  of  human 
endeavor,  have  undergone  a  revolution.  When  a  conti¬ 
nent,  with  its  huge  mountains  and  broad  plains,  is  grad¬ 
ually  lifted  up  out  of  the  sea,  there  is  no  doubt  that  i 
mighty  force  is  silently  active  in  producing  so  amazing 
an  effect.  What  is  any  physical  change  in  comparison 
with  that  moral  and  spiritual  transformation,  not  inaptly 
called  “  a  new  creation,”  which  Christianity  has  caused? 

Now,  the  total  effect  of  Christianity  which  Christen¬ 
dom  —  past  and  present,  and  future  as  far  as  we  can 
foresee  the  future  —  presents,  is  due  to  the  personal 
agency  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  It  can  even  be  shown  to 
be  contingent  on  a  personal  love  to  him  which  animated 
the  Christians  of  the  first  centuries,  and  which  still 
pervades  a  multitude  of  disciples  who  call  themselves 
by  his  name.  Had  this  bond  of  personal  gratitude  and 
trust  been  absent,  this  vast  result  could  never  have 
come  to  pass.  The  power  of  Christianity  in  moulding 
Christendom  is  undeniably  owing  to  the  religious  and 


CHRISTENDOM  AS  AN  EFFECT  OF  CHRIST. 


387 


supernatural  elements  which  are  involved  in  the  life, 
character,  and  work  of  Jesus  Christ.  Had  he  been 
conceived  of  as  merely  a  human  reformer,  a  teacher  of 
an  excellent  system  of  morals,  a  martyr,  the  effect 
would  never  have  followed.  Subtract  the  faith  in  him 
as  the  Sent  of  God,  as  the  Saviour  from  sin  and  death, 
as  the  hope  of  the  soul,  and  you  lose  the  forces  without 
which  the  religion  of  Jesus  could  never  have  supplanted 
the  ancient  Heathenism,  regenerated  the  Teutonic  na¬ 
tions,  and  begotten  the  Christian  civilization  in  the 
midst  of  which  we  live,  and  which  is  spreading  over  the 
globe.  Men  may  doubt  about  this  or  that  miracle  in 
the  Gospels,  even  though  the  testimony  cannot  be  suc¬ 
cessfully  impeached.  The  miracle  of  Christendom, 
wrought  by  Christ,  is  a  fact  which  none  can  question. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  CHRISTIANITY  FROM  A  COMPARI¬ 
SON  OF  IT  WITH  OTHER  RELIGIONS. 

Christianity  is  one  of  many  religions  which  have 
existed  in  the  world.  They  may  be  divided  into  three 
classes,  —  the  religions  of  barbarian  tribes,  past  and  pres¬ 
ent  ;  the  national  religions,  which  have  sprung  up  within 
a  single  nation  or  race,  and  have  not  striven  for  a 
farther  extension;  and  the  universal  religions,  which, 
not  content  to  stay  within  national  boundaries,  have 
aspired  to  a  general  or  universal  sway.  To  this  last 
class,  Buddhism  and  Christianity  unquestionably  be¬ 
long.  The  religion  of  the  Israelites,  before  it  assumed 
the  Christian  form,  had  spread  extensively  among  men 
of  foreign  birth ;  and  its  adherents  were  zealous  in 
making  proselytes.  Yet  converts  were  partly  or  fully 
transformed  into  Jews,  and  incorporated  with  the  race 
of  Israel.  Mohammedanism  was  at  first  the  religion  of 
one  people,  and  at  the  outset  it  may  not  have  been  the 
design  of  its  founder  to  extend  it  beyond  the  national 
limits.  But  the  design  was  widened :  it  became  a  con¬ 
quering  faith,  and  has,  in  fact,  included  within  its  pale 
numerous  votaries  of  different  nations  and  tongues. 

The  study  of  pagan  and  ethnic  religions  has  been 
carried  forward,  of  late,  in  a  more  sympathetic  spirit. 
Elements  of  truth  and  beauty  have  been  carefully 
sought  out  in  the  beliefs  and  worship  of  heathen  na¬ 
tions.  Religious  ideas  and  moral  'precepts  which  de- 
388 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  OTHER  RELIGIONS. 


889 


serve  respect  have  been  pointed  out  in  the  ethnic 
creeds.  The  aspirations  at  the  root  of  the  religions  of 
the  heathen,  the  struggle  of  the  soul  to  connect  itself 
with  the  supernatural,  and  to  realize  ideals  of  an  excel¬ 
lence  above  any  present  attainment,  have  been  justly 
appreciated.  This  aspect  of  heathenism,  it  should  be 
observed,  however,  is  recognized  in  the  New  Testament. 
The  Apostle  Paul  builds  his  discourse  at  Athens  on 
the  acknowledged  ignorance  of  the  Divinity,  for  whom 
there  was,  nevertheless,  a  search  and  a  yearning.  He 
cites  the  teaching  of  certain  heathen  poets  as  conformed 
to  the  truth  on  the  great  point  of  man’s  filial  relation 
to  the  Deity.  The  Christian  Fathers  traced  wise  and 
holy  sayings  of  heathen  sages  to  rays  of  light  from  the 
Logos,  —  the  Divine  Word,  —  or  to  an  illumination  from 
the  Spirit  of  God.  Devout  missionaries,  in  recent  days, 
have  been  impressed  with  the  conviction  that  individuals, 
of  whom  Confucius  was  one,  have  been  providentially 
raised  up  to  be  the  guides  of  their  people,  and  to  pre¬ 
pare  them  for  better  things.  Points  of  affinity,  and  of 
accordance  between  the  Bible  and  the  sacred  scriptures 
of  peoples  ignorant  of  Christianity,  have  not  been  over¬ 
looked  by  Christian  scholars.  Even  the  fables  of 
mythology  may  betray  glimpses  of  truth  not  capable 
of  being  grasped  on  the  plane  of  nature.  They  may 
reveal  a  craving  which  Christianity  alone  avails  to  ap¬ 
pease,  and  may  thus  be  unconscious  prophecies  of  Him 
who  is  the  desire  of  all  nations.  Even  the  Avatars  of 
Vishnu,  countless  in  number,  indicate  that  through 
man  the  full  revelation  of  God  is  looked  for.  They 
may  be  considered  a  presage,  in  a  crude  form,  of  the 
historic  fact  of  the  incarnation. 

Christianity  differs  from  the  other  religions  in  its 
contents,  and  in  the  authoritative  sanction  which  gives 


390  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

ground  for  certainty  of  belief.  This  last  feature  is  of 
itself  a  distinguishing  merit.  If  much  that  is  taught 
by  Christ  and  the  apostles  should  be  found  here  and 
there  in  the  literature  of  the  world,  the  supernatural 
sanction  which  changes  hope  into  assurance,  and  doubt¬ 
ing  belief  into  conviction,  would  be  of  itself  an  ines¬ 
timable  advantage.  In  this  place,  it  is  the  contents 
of  Christianity  which  we  have  to  consider  in  compari¬ 
son  with  the  tenets  of  other  creeds. 

It  is  well,  at  the  outset,  to  give  prominence  to  the 
grand  peculiarity  of  the  Christian  religion,  which  con¬ 
stitutes  the  central  point  of  difference  between  it  and 
the  ethnic  religions.  Revelation  is  the  revelation  —  the 
self-revelation  —  of  God.  The  doctrine  of  God  is 
the  sun  which  illuminates  the  whole  system,  and  keeps 
every  part  in  its  place.  There  may  be  excellent  moral 
suggestions  in  heathenism.  There  may  be  partial,  mo¬ 
mentary  glimpses  of  the  Divine  Being  himself  in  certain 
aspects  of  his  character.  But  nowhere,  save  in  the  reli¬ 
gion  of  the  Bible,  and  in  systems  borrowed  from  it,  is 
there  a  full  view  of  the  perfections  of  God,  —  such  a  view 
as  gives  to  moral  precepts  their  proper  setting  and  the 
most  effectual  motive  to  their  observance.  This  essential 
characteristic  of  Christianity  the  Apostle  Paul  held  up 
to  view  in  his  discourse  at  Athens.  There  was  worship 
—  in  its  way,  genuine  worship  —  among  the  heathen, 
but  an  ignorance  of  its  true  object.  In  a  few  striking 
sentences  the  apostle  presented  to  view  the  only  living 
God,  a  Spirit,  the  Creator  and  Ruler  of  the  universe,  in 
whom  we  live,  and  to  whom  we  are  responsible.  The 
whole  conception  of  man,  of  his  duties  and  destiny, 
and  of  the  goal  to  which  all  things  tend,  is  colored 
and  determined  by  the  primary  ideas  relative  to  God. 
What,  let  us  now  inquire,  have  other  religions  to  say 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  OTHER  RELIGIONS. 


891 


of  him?  Heathen  religions  generally  fail  altogether  to 
disengage  God  from  nature.  Hence  polytheism  is  the 
prevailing  fact.  Whether  the  various  religions  carry 
in  them  traces  of  an  earlier  monotheism  is  a  disputed 
point.  Scholars  are  not  agreed  on  the  question ;  and  a 
bias,  on  one  side  or  on  the  other,  frequently  appears  in 
the  recent  discussions  upon  it.  As  the  existing  diversity 
oi  languages  is  entirely  consistent  with  the  hypothesis 
of  an  original  unity  of  speech,  although  the  phenomena 
do  not  positively  establish  this  doctrine,  so  it  may  be 
respecting  religion.  Vestiges  of  a  primitive  theism  may 
have  utterly  disappeared,  yet  such  may  have  been  the 
religion  of  the  primitive  man.  Certain  it  is,  that,  as 
we  contemplate  the  religions  which  history  and  ancient 
literature  exhibit  to  us,  we  find  them  at  a  distant  re¬ 
move  from  a  pure  and  spiritual  apprehension  of  the 
Deity.  Where  there  was  a  supreme  God,  other  divini¬ 
ties  divided  power  with  him ;  and  none  of  them  were 
conceived  of  as  absolute,  as  independent  of  nature. 
Tien,  or  Shang-ti,  the  supreme  God  of  the  Chinese,  was 
Heaven  conceived  of  as  Lord  or  sovereign  Emperor. 
Dr.  Legge,  the  learned  translator  of  Confucius,  holds 
that 44  Tien  ”  signifies  the  Lord  of  the  Heavens.  He  finds 
in  the  conception  an  early  monotheism.  This  was  not 
the  understanding  of  the  Roman  Catholic  missionaries 
in  the  last  century,  nor  is  it  the  interpretation  of  the 
most  competent  missionaries  at  present.  The  testimony 
of  Chinese  authors,  says  Dr.  Hopper,  44  is  uniform  and 
the  same.  Everywhere  it  is  the  visible  heaven  which  is 
referred  to.”  44  They  refer  to  an  intelligent  soul  ani¬ 
mating  the  visible  heaven,  as  the  soul  animates  the 
body  of  a  man.”  The  religion  of  the  Bactrian  prophet 
Zoroaster  was  a  dualism.  An  eternal  principle  of  evil, 
a  god  of  darkness,  the  source  of  every  thing  baleful  and 


892  TII£  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


hateful,  contends  against  the  rival  deity,  and  is  never 
overcome.  Max  Miiller  has  designated  the  religion  of 
the  Sanskrit-speaking  Indians,  the  system  of  the  Vedas, 
as  henotheism,  by  which  he  means  the  worship  of  nu¬ 
merous  divinities,  each  of  which,  however,  in  the  act 
of  worship,  is  clothed  with  such  attributes  as  imply 
that  the  other  divinities  are  for  the  moment  forgotten, 
and  which  might  logically  abolish  them.  This  is  really 
polytheism  with  a  peculiar  monistic  drift.  But  Pro¬ 
fessor  Whitney,  than  whom  there  is  no  higher  authority 
on  the  subject,  dissents  from  this  theory,  and  attributes 
the  exalted  attributes  attached  to  the  particular  god 
at  the  moment  of  worship,  mainly  to  a  natural  exagge¬ 
ration.  Professor  Whitney  declares  that  “  there  is  no 
known  form  of  religious  faith  which  presents  a  poly¬ 
theism  more  pure  and  more  absolute  than  the  Vedic 
religion.” 1  Whether  monotheism  entered  into  the  an- 
cient  religion,  of  Egypt  is  an  unsettled  debate.  It  is 
maintained  by  Renouf,  that  the  Egyptian  monuments 
and  literature  exhibit  a  mingling  of  monotheism  and 
polytheism ;  that  there  was  a  conception  of  one  God 
with  sublime  attributes,  —  an  idea  connected,  however, 
with  the  notion  of  a  plurality  of  divinities  and  with 
debased  superstitions.  The  sublime  conception,  Renouf 
contends,  was  the  most  ancient.  Mr.  G.  Rawlinson 
takes  the  same  position,  holding  that  there  was  a  purer, 
esoteric  faith,  the  religion  of  the  educated  class,  along¬ 
side  of  the  polytheism  and  idolatry  in  which  the  multi¬ 
tude  were  sunk.2  On  the  contrary,  Lepsius  thinks  that 
the  Egyptian  religion  took  its  start  in  sun-worship. 
Other  ^Egyptologists  would  make  sun-worship  interme¬ 
diate  between  an  earlier  monotheism  and  polytheism. 

1  Revue  de  l’Histoire  des  Religions,  tom.  vi.  (1SS2),  No.  5,  p.  143. 

2  The  Religions  of  the  Ancient  World,  p.  29. 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  OTHER  RELIGIONS. 


393 


The  religion  of  the  Greeks,  as  all  know,  was  a  poly¬ 
theism  in  which  there  is  a  struggle  towards  unity  in 
the  lofty  image  of  Zeus,  as  the  father  of  gods  and  men, 
and  as  the  fountain  of  law  and  right,  which  is  found  in 
the  writings  of  Sophocles  and  of  his  contemporaries. 
Turning  to  a  much  later  religion,  —  the  religion  of  Mo* 
hammed,  —  we  find  passages  in  the  Koran  which  imply 
not  only  a  genuine  faith  in  the  Supreme  Being,  but 
also  the  ascription  to  him  of  certain  exalted  moral 
attributes.  “Your  God  is  one  God:  there  is  no  God 
but  he,  the  merciful,  the  compassionate.”  1  Paradise  is 
“  for  those  who  expend  in  alms  in  prosperity  and  adver¬ 
sity,  for  those  who  repress  their  rage,  and  those  who 
pardon  men.  God  loves  the  kind.  Those  who,  when 
they  do  a  crime,  or  wrong  themselves,  remember  God, 
and  ask  forgiveness  of  their  sins,  —  and  who  forgives 
sins  save  God?  —  and  do  not  persevere  in  what  they 
did,  the  while  they  know,  these  have  their  reward,  — 
pardon  from  their  Lord,”  etc.2 

Passages  like  these,  taken  by  themselves,  would  give 
a  higher  idea  of  Mohammed’s  system  than  a  wider 
view  warrants.  Those  other  representations  must  be 
taken  into  account,  in  which  the  holiness  of  God  is 
obscured,  the  prophet’s  fierce  resentment  is  ascribed  to 
the  Lord,  and  a  sensual  paradise  promised  to  the  faith¬ 
ful.  “  And  when  ye  meet  those  who  misbelieve  — 
then  strike  off  heads  until  ye  have  massacred  them, 
and  bind  fast  the  bonds.  .  .  .  Those  who  are  slain  in 
God’s  cause.  .  .  .  He  will  make  them  enter  into  Para¬ 
dise”3  But  the  higher  elements  in  the  religion  of 

1  The  Koran,  Professor  Palmer’s  translation,  chap.  ii.  [150],  (vol.  i 
p  22). 

2  Ibid.,  c.  iii.  [125],  [130],  vol.  i.  p.  63. 

8  Ibid.,  chap,  xlvii.  [5],  (vol.  ii.  p.  229). 


394  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 


Mohammed,  strongly  as  they  seized  upon  his  faith,  did 
not  begin  with  him.  Kuenen  argues  that  he  knew  little 
of  Abraham,  and  that  the  identification  of  his  creed 
with  that  of  the  patriarch,  which  is  found  in  the  Koran, 
was  an  afterthought.1  However  imperfect  his  knowl¬ 
edge  of  Abraham’s  history  was,  the  name  of  the  patri¬ 
arch  was  familiar  to  him.  It  is  of  more  consequence 
to  remember  that  his  main  tenet  was  the  familiar  belie t 
of  the  Jews,  which  a  circle  of  Arab  devotees  probably 
still  cherished.  The  religion  of  Mohammed  was  a 
fanatical  crusade  against  polytheism  and  idolatry,  first 
among  the  Arabs,  and  then  in  the  degenerate  Christian* 
ity  of  the  Eastern  Church.  The  ultimate  source  of  all 
that  is  good  in  Mohammed’s  movement  is  the  Scrip¬ 
tures  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  which  he  did  not 
refuse  to  acknowledge,  little  as  he  really  knew  of  their 
contents,  and  far  as  he  was  from  comprehending  the 
prophetic  or  Messianic  element  of  the  Old-Testament 
religion,  or  its  fulfilment  in  the  gospel.  Mohammedan¬ 
ism  is  one  grand  idea  of  the  Old  Testament,  the  idea  of 
God,  with  the  attribute  of  holiness  largely  subtracted, 
and  divested  of  the  principle  of  progress  which  issued, 
in  the  case  of  the  religion  of  Israel,  in  the  kingdom  of 
Christ,  the  universal  religion  of  Jesus. 

History  indicates  that  polytheism,  whatever  be  its 
origin,  tends,  in  the  case  of  nations  that  advance  in 
intelligence,  to  some  species  of  monotheism.  Professor 
Whitney  finds  “  unmistakable  indications  of  the  begin¬ 
nings  of  a  tendency  to  unity  in  the  later  Vedic  hymns.”2 
The  Graeco-Roman  religion  had  resolved  itself,  in  the 
mind  of  Plutarch  and  many  of  his  contemporaries,  into 
a  belief  in  one  Supreme  Being,  with  a  host  of  subordi 

1  Kuenen,  National  Religions  and  Universal  Religions,  p.  12  seq. 

9  Revue,  etc.,  p.  140. 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  OTHER  RELIGIONS. 


895 


nate  divinities.  In  the  second  century  of  the  Christian 
era,  under  the  influence  of  philosophy,  God  was  con¬ 
ceived  of  as  one  Being;  and  the  minor  deities  were 
thought  of,  either  as  representing  the  variety  of  his 
functions,  or  as  instruments  of  his  providence.  This 
was  the  mode  of  thinking  in  cultivated  classes.  The 
belief  and  rites  of  the  common  people  remained  unal¬ 
tered.  But  here  a  most  important  fact  must  be  brought 
to  the  attention  of  the  reader.'  We  find  that  the  ten¬ 
dencies  to  unification,  although  they  may  beget  a  sort 
of  monotheism  which  lingers  for  a  time,  commonly  issue 
in  Pantheism.  Nature  still  holds  the  spirit  in  its  fet¬ 
ters.  If  it  is  not  a  multitude  of  deities,  more  or  less 
involved  in  natural  forces  and  functions,  it  is  nature 
as  a  whole,  figured  as  an  impersonal  agency,  into  which 
deity  is  merged.  It  was  so  in  the  ancient  classical 
nations.  The  esoteric  philosophy  and  theology  did  not 
remain  deistic  :  it  slid  down  into  Pantheism.  The  reli¬ 
gions  of  India  are  a  notable  illustration  of  this  apparent 
helplessness  of  the  spirit  to  rise  above  nature,  above  the 
realm  of  things  finite,  to  the  absolute  and  personal 
Being,  from  whom  are  all  things.  One  of  the  most 
learned  and  trustworthy  of  the  recent  expositors  of  the 
religions  of  India  says,  u  India  is  radically  pantheistic, 
and  that  from  its  cradle  onwards.”1  When  we  examine 
the  Brahminical  religion  as  it  was  developed  on  the 
banks  of  the  Ganges,  we  find  a  thoroughly  panthe¬ 
istic  system.  Emanation  is  the  method  by  which  finite 
things  originate.  Brahma  is  the  impersonal  essence  or 
life  of  all  things :  from  Brahma,  gods,  men,  the  earth, 
and  all  things  else,  proceed.  This  alienation  from 
Brahma  is  evil.  The  finite  soul  can  find  no  peace,  save 
in  the  return  to  Brahma,  —  the  extinction  of  personal 

1  Barth,  The  Religions  of  India,  p.  8. 


896  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


consciousness.  The  laws  of  Manu  close  with  the  senti¬ 
ment  :  “  He  who  in  his  own  soul  perceives  the  Supreme 
Soul  in  all  beings,  and  acquires  equanimity  towards  all, 
attains  the  highest  state  of  bliss.”  The  Stoics,  and 
Spinoza,  and  some  of  the  sayings  of  Emerson,  are  an¬ 
ticipated  in  this  Hindoo  sentence.  All  the  horrors 
of  transmigration,  and  all  the  torments  of  Brahminical 
asceticism,  have  a  genetic  relation  to  this  fundamental 
pantheistic  tenet.  Buddhism  is  the  religion  which  at 
present  is  most  lauded  by  those  who  would  put  Chris¬ 
tianity  on  the  same  general  level  with  the  heathen 
creeds.  We  may  pass  by  the  perplexing  inquiry  as  to 
the  life  of  its  founder,  as  to  what  is  history,  and  what 
is  myth,  in  the  narrative.  That  he  was  an  earnest  man, 
struck  with  a  sense  of  the  misery  of  the  world,  and 
anxious  to  do  good,  may  be  safely  concluded.  That  he 
made  large  sacrifices  of  worldly  good  in  pursuit  of  his 
benevolent  purpose,  is  equally  certain.  That  the  moral 
precepts  which  he  enjoined,  and  the  moral  spirit  which 
he  recommended  and  practised,  are  characterized  by  a 
benevolence  not  to  be  found  in  the  same  degree  else¬ 
where  outside  of  the  pale  of  Christianity,  is  evident. 
Yet  nothing  can  be  better  adapted  to  impress  one  with 
the  immeasurable  superiority  of  Christianity  to  hea¬ 
thenism  in  its  best  forms  than  a  close  attention  to  the 
Buddhistic  system. 

What  now,  according  to  Buddha,  or  ^akyamuni,  is  the 
cause,  and  what  the  cure,  of  the  ills  of  life  ?  His  theory 
is  embodied  in  the  four  principles:  (1)  Existence  is 
always  attended  with  misery;  to  exist  is  to  suffer; 
(2)  The  cause  of  pain  is  desire,  which  increases  with 
its  gratification;  (8)  Hence  the  cessation  or  suppres¬ 
sion  of  desire  is  necessary  ;  (4)  There  are  four  stages  in 
the  way  to  this  result,  —  four  things  requisite.  These 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  OTHER  RELIGIONS. 


397 


are,  first,  an  awakening  to  the  consciousness  that  to  ex* 
ist  is  to  be  miserable,  and  to  the  perception  that  misery 
is  the  fruit  of  desire  or  passion ;  secondly,  the  escape, 
through  this  knowledge,  from  impure  and  revengeful 
feelings ;  thirdly,  the  getting  rid  successively  of  all 
evil  desires,  then  of  ignorance,  then  of  doubt,  then  of 
heresy,  then  of  unkindliness  and  vexation.  When  the 
believer  has  reached  the  fourth  stage,  he  is  ready  for 
Nirvana.  What  is  Nirvana  ?  What  is  the  blessed  goal 
where  all  self-discipline  reaches  its  reward  ?  It  is  the 
extinction  of  personal  being.  It  is  annihilation.  That 
this  is  the  doctrine  of  Buddha,  scholars  generally  hold.1 
The  same  scholars  who  declare  this  to  be  the  outcome 
of  the  latest  and  most  thorough  investigations  also  find 
that  Nirvana  was  held  to  be  attainable  in  this  life ; 2 
that  is,  this  term  was  applied  by  early  Buddhist  teach¬ 
ers  to  the  serenity  which  is  reached  by  the  saint  here. 
But  this  does  not  imply  that  there  is  a  continuance  of 
individual  being  beyond  death.3  The  most  that  is 
claimed  by  the  most  competent  scholars  for  Buddha 
under  this  head  is,  that  he  steadily  refused  to  give  an 
answer  to  the  question.4  It  is  sometimes  thought  that 
transmigration  is  inconsistent  with  the  denial  that  the 
soul  is  a  substantial  entity.  But  the  pantheistic  theory 
as  seen  in  the  Brahminical  system,  while  it  subtracts 


1  See  T.  W.  Rhys  Davids’s  Art.  Buddhism,  Encyc.  Brit.,  vol  iv. 
p.  434;  Bartli,  p.  110;  Tiele’s  Outlines  of  the  History  of  Religion,  etc., 
p.  35;  Koeppen,  Die  Religion  d.  Buddha,  i.  306;  Edkins,  Chinese  Buddh¬ 
ism,  p.  45. 

2  Rhys  Davids’s  Lectures  on  Origin  and  Growth  of  Religion,  etc., 
pp.  100,  253. 

8  Rhys  Davids’s  Lectures,  etc.,  p.  101. 

4  “Orthodox  teaching  in  the  ancient  order  of  Buddhists  inculcated 
expressly  on  its  converts  to  forego  the  knowledge  of  the  being  or  non- 
being  of  the  perfected  saint.”  —  Oldenberg :  Buddha,  His  Life,  His 
Doctrine,  His  Order,  p.  276. 


398  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


personality  from  the  soul,  may  hold  that  the  finite  being 
which  we  call  “  the  soul  ”  may  be  embodied  not  once 
only,  but  an  indefinite  number  of  times.  Yet  to  exist 
as  distinct  from  the  Absolute,  or  as  self-conscious,  is  the 
evil  of  evils.  But  while  Buddha  may  possibly  have  him¬ 
self  held  to  the  “  vaguely  apprehended  and  feebly  pos¬ 
tulated  ego ,”  passing  from  one  existence  to  another,  — 
a  doctrine  found  in  the  Sanskrit  books  of  the  North,1 — - 
the  accepted  doctrine  of  the  sect  was,  that  the  Buddh¬ 
ist,  strictly  speaking,  does  not  revive,  but  another  in 
his  place, — the  “Karma,”  which  is  the  re-union  of  the 
constituent  qualities  that  made  up  his  being.  “  Such 
is  the  doctrine  of  the  entire  orthodox  literature  of 
Southern  Buddhism.”  2  “  Buddhism  does  not  acknowl¬ 

edge  the  existence  of  a  soul  as  a  thing  distinct  from  the 
parts  and  powers  of  man  which  are  dissolved  at  death ; 
and  the  Nirvana  of  Buddhism  is  simply  extinction.” 3 
The  Buddhist  aspires  to  Nirvana,  to  the  end  that  he 
may  avert  the  pains  of  transmigration  from  another, 
his  heir  or  successor. 

It  is  in  this  method  of  self-discipline,  and  in  the 
tempers  of  heart  which  are  inculcated,  that  the  attrac¬ 
tive  points  of  Buddhism  are  comprised.  Chastity,  tem¬ 
perance,  patience,  and,  crowning  all,  universal  charity, 
are  to  be  earnestly  cultivated  as  the  indispensable 
means  of  redemption  from  the  dread  of  transmigration 
and  from  the  pains  of  existence. 

It  is  obvious  where  the  merits  of  Buddhism  lie,  and 
how  restricted  is  their  circumference.  Buddha  was  not 
an  antagonist  of  the  traditional  Brahminical  religion. 
He  set  on  foot  no  crusade  against  caste.  We  do  not 

1  Barth,  pp.  112,  113. 

2  Burnouf,  Introd.,  p.  507  (Barth,  p.  112). 

8  Rhys  Davids,  Encyc.  Brit.,  vol.  iv.  p.  434,  where  the  proofs  are  given. 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  OTHER  RELIGIONS. 


399 


know  how  far  the  caste  organization  was  developed 
when  Buddha  taught.  Whatever  hostility  there  was 
to  Brahminism  and  caste  arose  later.  There  is  a  com 
mon  family  likeness  between  his  doctrine  and  the 
contemporary  speculations  of  the  philosophy  of  the 
Brahmans.  “  Atheism,  scornful  disregard  of  the  cultus 
and  tradition,  the  conception  of  a  religion  entirely 
spiritual,  a  contempt  for  finite  existence,  belief  in  trans- 
migration,  and  the  necessity  of  deliverance  from  it,  the 
feeble  idea  of  the  personality  of  man,”  —  these  are 
among  the  features  found  in  Buddhism  and  the  Upani- 
shads.1 

Buddha  created  a  monkish  system  as  blighting  in  its 
influence  on  intellectual  development,  and  as  adverse  to 
the  well-being  of  men,  as  any  thing  in  the  Braliminical 
creed  or  rite.  This  was  an  essential  part  of  his  system. 
Monasticism,  as  Kuenen  has  justly  remarked,  is  an  ex¬ 
crescence  in  the  Christian  system.  The  “  Son  of  man 
came  eating  and  drinking.”  “  There  could  be  no 
Buddhism  without  4  bhikshus  ’  —  there  is  a  Christianity 
without  monks.”  “  That  which  in  one  case  constitutes 
the  very  essence  of  the  religion,  and  cannot  be  removed 
from  it,  even  in  thought,  without  annulling  the  system 
itself,  is  in  the  other  case  .  .  .  the  natural  but  one¬ 
sided  development  of  certain  elements  in  the  original 
movement,  coupled  with  gross  neglect  of  others  which 
have  equal  or  still  higher  right  to  assert  themselves.” 2 

Buddha  was  the  great  apostle  of  Pessimism.  He 
sought  to  point  out  a  virtuous  method  of  getting  lid 
of  existence.  The  Brahman  sought  to  save  himself: 
Buddha  sought,  also,  to  save  others.  But  from  what? 
From  conscious  existence.  It  is  literally  a  system 
without  God  and  without  hope,  save  the  negative  hope 

1  Barth,  p.  115.  2  Kuenen,  p.  306. 


400  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

of  deliverance  from  personal  life.  He  invited  the 
victims  of  sorrow  and  terror  to  imitate  him  with  the 
promise  of  —  annihilation  !  Contrast  the  invitation  of 
Him  who  said,  “  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and 
are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest  ”  !  This  rest 
was  in  fellowship  with  him,  bringing  in  it  a  commun¬ 
ion  with  the  heavenly  Father,  without  whom  not  a 
spanow  falls,  who  makes  all  things  work  together  for 
good  to  them  that  love  him,  and  opens  the  gates  of 
heaven  at  last  to  the  soul  that  has  been  trained  by 
earthly  service  for  the  higher  service  and  unmingled 
blessedness  of  the  life  to  come. 

Buddhism,  vigorous  at  its  birth,  “has  been  smitten 
with  premature  decrepitude.  .  .  .  Some  are  at  times 
fain  to  regard  Buddhism  as  a  spiritual  emancipation, 
a  kind  of  Hindoo  Reformation ;  and  there  is  no  doubt 
that  in  certain  respects  it  was  both.”  But  it  created 
an  institution  “  far  more  illiberal,  and  formidable  to 
spiritual  independence,”  than  the  caste  system.  “Not 
only  did  all  the  vitality  of  the  Church  continue  in  a 
clergy  living  apart  from  the  world;  but  among  this 
clergy  itself  the  conquering  zeal  of  the  first  centuries 
gradually  died  away  under  the  influence  of  Quietism 
and  the  discipline  enforced.  .  .  .  All  boldness  and  true 
originality  of  thought  disappeared  in  the  end  in  the 
bosom  of  this  spirit-weakening  organization.”  1 

What,  then,  is  the  real  significance  of  Buddhism  as 
an  historical  phenomenon  ?  It  is  the  most  powerful 
testimony  ever  given  to  the  burden  that  rests  on  human 
nature.  From  its  millions  upon  millions  of  adherents 
there  arises  an  unconscious  cry  for  the  help  which  their 
own  system  cannot  furnish.  Buddhism,  in  its  inmost 
purport,  is  a  part  of  the  sad  wail  of  humanity  in  its 
longing  for  redemption. 

1  Barth,  p.  137. 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  OTHER  RELIGIONS. 


401 


Christianity  received  from  its  parent,  the  religion  of 
Israel,  the  truth  of  a  living,  personal  God,  —  a  God  not 
merged  in  nature,  but  the  Author  of  nature.  The  per¬ 
sonality  of  God  gives  to  man  his  true  place.  Man  is 
a  person ;  and  religion,  instead  of  being  a  mystic  ab¬ 
sorption  of  the  individual,  is  the  communion  of  person 
with  person.  Immortality  is  personal.  The  guaranty 
and  evidence  of  it  is  in  the  relation  of  man  to  God,  and 
in  the  exalted  position  which  is  thereby  conferred  on 
man.  This  guaranty  becomes  a  joyous  assurance,  when 
the  believer  is  conscious  of  being  spiritually  united  to 
Jesus  Christ,  and  a  partaker  of  his  life.  The  great  idea 
of  the  kingdom  of  God  is  the  object  of  aspiration  and 
of  effort,  —  the  goal  of  history.  The  life  that  now  is, 
instead  of  being  branded  as  a  curse,  is  made  a  theatre 
for  the  realization  of  a  divine  purpose,  and  the  vestibule 
of  a  state  of  being  for  which,  when  rightly  used,  it  is 
the  natural  prelude. 

Through  such  characteristics  as  these,  Christianity  is 
kitted  to  be  the  religion  of  mankind.  None  of  the 
systems  which  ha^e  aspired  to  this  distinction  has  the 
remotest  hope  of  attaining  it.  None  of  these  systems 
contains  a  single  element  of  value,  which  is  not  found 
in  its  own  place  in  the  Christian  system  :  on  the  con¬ 
trary,  there  is  nothing  in  Christianity  which  forms  any 
permanent  hairier  to  its  acceptance  by  any  race  or  na¬ 
tion.  No  other  religion  has  in  an  equal  degree  proved 
its  adapteduess  to  be  the  religion  of  the  world.  It  ad¬ 
dresses  itself,  not  to  a  single  people,  nor  to  any  branch 
of  the  human  race  exclusively  or  specially,  but  to  man¬ 
kind.  The  apostles  were  directed  to  carry  it  “  to  every 
creature.”  The  idea  of  the  brotherhood  of  the  race 
becomes  in  Christianity  a  realized  fact.  Appealing  to 
a  common  religious  nature,  a  common  consciousness  of 


402  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRIS7  AN  BELIEF. 


sin  and  of  the  need  of  help,  a  common  sense  of  tho 
buiden  of  sorrow  and  mortality,  and  offering  a  remedy 
which  is  equally  adapted  to  all,  Christianity  shows  it¬ 
self  possessed  of  the  attributes  of  a  universal  religion. 
Being,  on  the  practical  side,  a  religion  of  principles, 
and  not  of  rules,  it  enters  into  every  form  of  human 
society  and  every  variety  of  individual  character,  with 
a  renovating  and  moulding  agency. 

I  low  shall  the  rise  of  such  a  religion  be  accounted 
for?  We  are  pointed  back  to  Hebrew  monotheism. 
But  here  we  meet  with  a  phenomenon  altogether 
unique,  both  in  its  origin  and  in  its  effects.  That  the 
doctrine  of  Moses  was  not  derived  from  the  religion  of 
Egypt,  scholars  of  every  type  of  theological  belief  unite 
in  affirming.  The  question  whence  Moses  derived  his 
idea  of  God,  says  Wellhausen,  “could  not  possibly  be 
worse  answered  than  by  a  reference  to  his  relations 
with  the  priestly  caste  of  Egypt  and  their  wisdom. 
It  is  not  to  be  believed  that  an  Egyptian  deity  could 
inspire  the  Hebrews  of  Goshen  with  courage  for  the 
struggle  against  the  Egyptians,  or  that  an  abstraction 
of  esoteric  speculation  could  become  the  national  deity 
of  Israel.”1  “Amongst  students  of  Israelite  religion,” 
says  Kuenen,  “  there  is  not,  as  far  as  I  know,  a  single 
one  who  derives  Yahvism  ”  —  the  worship  of  Jehovah  — 
“  from  Egypt,  either  in  the  strange  manner  hit  upon  by 
Comte,  or  in  any  other.”2  “It  may  be  confidently  as¬ 
serted,”  says  Renouf,  “  that  neither  Hebrews  nor  Greeks 
borrowed  any  of  their  ideas  from  Egypt.”  3  The  Deca¬ 
logue,  which  all,  save  critics  of  an  extreme  schcol,  at¬ 
tribute  without  hesitation  —  in  the  substance  of  it,  at 

1  Encyc.  Brit.,  Art.  Israel,  vol.  xiii.  p.  400. 

2  National  Religions  and  Universal  Religions,  p.  64. 

8  The  Religion  of  Ancient  Egypt,  p.  254. 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  OTHER  RELIGIt  NS. 


403 


least  —  to  Moses,  commands  the  exclusive  worship  of 
Jehovah,  and  proves  the  spirituality  of  the  conception 
by  forbidding  all  images  and  representations  of  him. 

.  “  In  the  post-Mosaic  period,”  says  Dillmann,  “  at  least 
in  the  central  sanctuary  of  the  whole  people,  and  in  the 
temple  of  Solomon,  the  unrepresentable  character  of 
Jehcvah  through  any  image  was  a  recognized  principle. 
The  worship  of  an  image  on  Sinai  (Exod.  xxxii.),  in 
the  time  of  the  judges,  in  the  kingdom  of  the  ten 
tribes,  does  not  prove  that  a  prohibition  of  image-wor¬ 
ship  was  not  known,  but  only  that  it  was  very  hard 
in  the  mass  of  the  people,  especially  of  the  northern 
tribes,  which  were  more  under  Canaanite  influences,  to 
bring  this  law  to  a  recognition ;  and  for  centuries,  in 
fact,  it  was  a  subject  of  strife  between  a  stricter  and  a 
laxer  party,  since  the  latter  only  forbade  an  image  of 
a  false  god,  the  former  forbade  every  image  of  Jehovah 
likewise.” 1  The  prophets  Amos  and  Hosea  do  not 
insist  on  the  exclusion  of  images,  as  if  this  prohibition 
were  any  thing  new.  We  need  not  inquire  whether 
the  non-existence  of  other  deities  was  expressly  asserted 
in  the  Mosaic  teaching  or  not.2  Since  Moses  did  not 
derive  the  idea  of  God  from  the  Egyptian  theology, 
both  the  historical  records,  and  the  probabilities  of  the 
case,  testify  that  it  was  the  God  of  the  forefathers 
whose  existence,  and  relations  to  the  people,  were  by 
him  brought  home  afresh  to  their  consciousness.  The 
entire  work  of  Moses  as  a  founder  admits  of  no  his¬ 
torical  explanation,  without  the  assumption  of  a  higher 
religion  before,  such  as,  according  to  Genesis,  belonged 
to  the  fathers;  but  such  a  higher  religion  necessarily 
implies  personal  media,  or  representatives.  “  Advances 

1  Die  Bucher  Exodu3  u.  Leviticus,  p.  209. 

2  On  this  subject,  see  Oehler,  ii.  155. 


404  1  HE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


in  religion  link  themselves  to  eminent  personalities ; 
and  the  recollection  of  them  is  commonly  kept  up  in 
the  people  who  come  after  who  have  been  gathered 
into  unity  as  sharers  in  common  of  their  faith.” . 
Hence  the  narrative  of  the  faith  of  Abraham  derives 
a  strong  historical  corroboration  from  the  faith  and 
work  of  Moses.1  Whatever  difference  may  exist  on  the 
question  whether  belief  in  the  existence  of  other  gods 
outside  of  Israel,  inferior  to  Jehovah,  lingered  among 
the  people  after  the  age  of  Moses,  all  allow,  that,  as 
early  as  the  eighth  century,  the  conception  of  Jehovah 
as  the  only  existing  God  was  proclaimed  by  the 
prophets  in  the  clearest  manner.  How  unique  was  this 
monotheism !  Other  nations  somehow  made  room  for 
the  gods  of  foreign  peoples.  They  brought  them  into 
the  Pantheon,  or  they  gave  them  homes  within  their 
own  proper  boundaries.  Not  so  with  Israel.  Jehovah 
was  God,  and  there  was  no  other.  And  he  was  a  holy 
God.  In  this  grand  particular,  the  conception  was  dis¬ 
tinguished  from  heathen  ideas  of  divinity.  How  shall 
this  idea  of  Jehovah,  so  peculiar  and  so  elevated,  be 
accounted  for  ?  The  notion  of  a  Semitic  tendency  to 
monotheism  has  a  very  slender  foundation,  and  would 
lead  us  to  expect  the  religion  of  Jehovah  to  arise  in 
Babylon  or  Tyre  as  soon  as  among  the  people  of 
Israel. 

If  we  leave  the  question  of  the  origin  of  Hebrew 
monotheism,  how  shall  it  be  explained  that  it  did  not 
sink  down,  when  it  had  once  arisen,  into  Pantheism,  as 
was  the  fact  in  other  religions,  —  for  example,  in  the 
religion  of  the  Hindoos,  and  in  the  philosophy  of  the 
Greeks,  which  Lord  Bacon  calls  “the  pagan  divinity”? 
How  did  this  unique  and  extraordinary  faith  keep  up 

1  See  Dillmann,  Die  Genesis,  pp.  228,  229. 


CHRISTIANITY  AND  OTHER  RELIGIONS. 


405 


its  vitality,  age  after  age,  in  the  presence  of  seductive 
types  of  heathenism,  and  in  the  midst  of  political  dis¬ 
integration  and  ruin  ?  How  came  the  light,  when  it  had 
dawned,  to  go  on  increasing  to  the  perfect  day,  instead 
of  fading  out,  as  elsewhere,  in  the  gloom  of  night? 

Leaving  these  problems,  too,  unsolved,  how  was  it 
that  the  Hebrew  monotheism  held  within  itself  the  seeds 
of  sc  great  a  future?  Assailants  of  the  Old  Testament 
religion  never  tire  of  dwelling  on  the  alleged  narrow¬ 
ness  of  Jewish  theology,  and  on  the  selfish  and  unsocial 
character  of  their  religious  theory.  It  cannot  be  denied 
that  the  consciousness  of  being  a  Chosen  People  often 
engendered  an  arrogant  and  intolerant  spirit  towards 
the  nations  less  favored ;  that  is,  the  bulk  of  mankind. 
Yet  what  was  the  actual  outcome?  It  was  the  religion 
of  universal  love,  of  the  equality  of  men  before  God, 
of  the  fatherhood  of  God,  and  the  brotherhood  of  the 
race.  It  was  the  religion  of  Jesus.  “  By  their  fruits  ye 
shall  know  them.”  The  Old  Testament  was  the  one 
book  with  which  Jesus  was  familiar.  In  the  teaching 
of  the  Old  Testament,  the  apostles  were  steeped.  The 
originality  of  Jesus  is  not  more  marked,  and  his  ad¬ 
vance  beyond  all  previous  doctrine,  than  is  the  organic 
relation  of  his  instruction  and  work,  of  the  type  of 
character  which  he  exemplified  and  enjoined,  to  the  Old- 
Testament  ideas.  The  God  whom  we  worship,  if  we 
believe  in  God,  is  the  God  of  Abraham  and  of  Moses,  of 
Samuel,  of  Isaiah,  and  of  David,  of  Paul  and  of  John, 
—  even  the  Father  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  There  is 
no  break  in  the  unity  of  the  religious  consciousness 
from  that  far  remote  day  when  Abraham  believed  in 
God,  and  was  lifted  above  the  life  of  sense  by  his 
communion  with  the  Invisible.  With  this  religious 
consciousness,  the  ethical  development  up  to  its  con 


406  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


summation  in  the  impartial  justice  and  unselfish  love  of 
man  as  man,  which  is  the  rule  of  Christ,  is  inseparably 
connected.  With  it  is  connected  the  ever-unfolding 
dictates  and  corollaries  of  this  principle,  by  which 
wrongs  and  miseries  are  more  and  more  discerned  and 
lessened. 

How  shall  such  a  religion,  founded  on  such  a  concep¬ 
tion  of  God,  be  accounted  for?  Who  that  believes  in 
God  can  find  it  incredible  that  it  springs  from  his  rev¬ 
elation  of  himself,  —  a  self-revelation,  consummated  in 
Christ  ?  An  examination  of  other  religions,  instead  of 
Bhaking  tba  faith  of  a  Christian,  tends  to  confirm  it. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


THE  RELATION  OF  BIBLICAL  CRITICISM  TO  THE  CHRIS¬ 
TIAN  FAITH. 

The  critical  discussions  which  are  rife  in  our  times  re¬ 
specting  the  Bible,  the  authorship  of  its  various  books, 
and  the  historical  value  and  doctrinal  authority  of  their 
contents,  make  it  important  to  consider  the  bearing  of 
these  inquiries  and  debates  on  the  Christian  Faith. 
What  is  the  relation  of  the  collection  of  writings  which 
we  call  the  Bible  to  the  religion  of  Christ?  How  far  is 
any  particular  doctrine  on  the  subject  of  the  Scriptures 
essential  to  a  theoretical  or  to  a  practical  reception  of 
the  gospel  in  its  real  import  and  just  efficacy?  Do  the 
results  of  critical  science  imperil,  or  are  they  likely  to 
imperil,  the  foundations  on  which  Christianity,  viewed 
as  an  experience  of  the  soul,  or  as  a  body  of  beliefs 
concerning  God  and  man,  the  life  that  now  is,  and  the 
world  hereafter,  reposes  ? 

So  much  is  clear  at  the  outset,  that  our  knowledge  of 
the  historical  and  doctrinal  parts  of  Christianity  is  de¬ 
rived  almost  exclusively  from  the  Bible.  The  same  is 
true  of  our  knowledge  of  the  origin  and  growth  of  that 
entire  religious  system  which  is  consummated  in  the 
work  and  teaching  of  Christ  and  of  the  apostles.  It 
is  not  less  plain,  that  the  nutriment  of  Christian  piety 
is  derived  chiefly  from  the  pages  of  Sacred  Scripture. 
The  instrumentalities  of  human  teaching,  the  activities 

of  the  Church  in  building  up  Christian  character,  and  the 

407 


i0'6  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BEDTE> . 


rest  of  the  manifold  agencies  through  which  the  power 
of  religion  is  kept  alive  in  the  individual  and  in  society, 
draw  their  vitality  from  the  Bible.  The  habit  of  resort¬ 
ing  to  the  Bible  for  spiritual  quickening  and  guidance 
is  the  indispensable  condition  of  religious  life  among 
Christians.  The  practical  proof  of  the  inspiration  ol 
Holy  Scripture —  in  some  sense,  which  avails  to  dis¬ 
tinguish  this  volume  from  all  other  books  known  to 
men  —  is  found  in  this  life-giving  power  that  abides  in 
it,  and  remains  undiminished,  from  age  to  age,  in  all 
the  mutations  of  literature,  and  amid  the  diverse  types 
and  advancing  stages  of  culture  and  civilization.  The 
general  proposition,  that  the  Bible  is  at  once  the  foun¬ 
tain  of  spiritual  light  and  life,  the  prime  source  of  reli¬ 
gious  knowledge,  and  the  rule  of  faith  and  of  conduct 
among  Christians,  admits  of  no  contradiction. 

But  this  general  theorem  does  not  cut  off  those 
special  problems  and  distinctions  which,  with  a  view 
to  precise  definition  and  qualification,  constitute  bibli¬ 
cal  criticism,  as  that  branch  of  study  is  now  understood. 
The  traditional  views  which  were  handed  down  from 
the  Church  of  the  fourth  century,  through  the  middle 
ages,  uncritical  to  some  extent  as  those  views  were 
in  their  inception,  could  not  possibly  shun  the  scrutiny 
of  a  more  searching  and  scientific  era  of  human  devel¬ 
opment.  The  liberty  of  thought  which  the  Reforma¬ 
tion  brought  in  was  attended  at  the  outset  with  a  more 
discriminating  and  a  more  free  handling  of  questions 
pertaining  to  the  origin  and  character  of  the  books  of 
Scripture,  as  the  example  of  Luther  notably  evinces. 
The  separation  of  the  Old  Testament  apocrypha  from 
the  canon  was  one  result  of  this  more  bold  and  enlight¬ 
ened  spirit  of  inquiry.  The  exigencies  of  controversy 
with  the  Roman  Catholics  begot,  among  Protestants  of 


BIBLICAL  CRITICISM  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  409 

the  next  age,  a  more  scrupulously  conservative  method 
of  enunciating  the  doctrine  respecting  the  inspiration  of 
biblical  books  than  the  pioneers  in  the  Protestant  move¬ 
ment  had  adopted.  The  maxim,  that  “  the  Bible  is  the 
religion  of  Protestants,”  in  opposition  to  the  Tridentine 
principle  of  church  authority,  was  so  construed  as  to 
lay  fetters  upon  the  critical  spirit  among  the  Protestant 
theologians  of  the  seventeenth  century.  More  and  more 
the  rise  of  the  scientific  spirit  —  the  spirit  which  pursues 
truth  alone  as  its  goal,  casting  aside  every  bias  as  tend¬ 
ing  to  blind  the  eye,  and  sifting  evidence  with  an  un¬ 
sparing  rigor  —  could  not  fail  to  affect  this  department 
of  knowledge.  More  and  more  this  spirit  of  candid,  and 
exhaustive  and  fearless  investigation,  which  is  the  legi¬ 
timate  child  of  the  Protestant  movement,  insisted  upon 
testing  the  prevalent  impressions  concerning  the  Bible 
and  its  various  parts,  by  the  strict  rules  that  govern  in¬ 
vestigation  in  every  other  province.  Literary  criticism, 
which  concerns  itself  with  the  authorship  and  date  of 
the  several  books,  with  their  real  or  alleged  discrepan¬ 
cies,  and  with  the  correctness  of  the  received  text ; 
natural  and  physical  science,  exploring  the  origin  of  the 
earth  and  of  its  inhabitants,  and  of  the  starry  spheres 
above ;  historical  and  archaeological  study,  exhuming 
relics  of  the  past,  and  deciphering  monuments  of  by¬ 
gone  ages,  —  these  branches  of  knowledge  bring,  each 
of  them,  conclusions  of  its  own  to  be  placed  in  juxtapo¬ 
sition  and  comparison  with  the  Hebrew  and  Christian 
Scriptures.  Biblical  criticism  was  something  inevitable. 
It  sprang  up  within  the  pale  of  the  Church.  Its  most 
valuable  contributions  have  been  made  by  Christian 
scholars.  It  is  true  that  disbelievers  in  the  divine  mis¬ 
sion  of  Jesus,  and  even  in  the  supernatural  altogether, 
have  sometimes  devoted  themselves  to  these  inquiries, 


410  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THElSTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 


It  is  a  blunder  and  an  injustice,  however,  on  the  part  of 
Christians,  and  a  false  boast  on  the  part  of  their  adver¬ 
saries,  when,  on  either  side,  it  is  affirmed  that  biblical 
criticism,  and  the  certified  results  of  it,  are  principally 
due  to  efforts  springing  up  outside  of  the  Church, 
among  opposers  of  supernatural  religion. 

Enough  has  been  said  respecting  the  exalted  function 
of  Scripture  to  preclude  misapprehension  when  we  pro¬ 
ceed  to  remark  that  the  Bible  is  one  thing,  and  Chris¬ 
tianity  is  another.  The  religion  of  Christ,  in  the  right 
signification  of  these  terms,  is  not  to  be  confounded 
with  the  scriptures,  even  of  the  New  Testament.  The 
point  of  view  from  which  the  Bible,  in  its  relation  to 
Christianity,  is  looked  on  as  the  Koran  appears  to 
devout  Mohammedans,  is  a  mistaken  one.  The  entire 
conception  according  to  which  the  energies  of  the 
Divine  Being,  as  exerted  in  the  Christian  revelation, 
are  thought  to  have  been  concentrated  on  the  produc¬ 
tion  of  a  book,  is  a  misconception,  and  one  that  is  pro¬ 
lific  of  error. 

1.  The  revelation  of  God  which  culminates  in  the 
gospel,  so  far  from  being  a  naked  communication  let 
down  from  the  skies,  is  in  and  through  a  process  of 
redemption.  Redemption  is  an  effect  wrought  in  the 
souls  of  men  and  in  human  society.  Christianity  is  a 
new  spiritual  creation  in  humanity.  The  product  is 
“new  creatures  in  Christ  Jesus,”  —  a  moral  transforma¬ 
tion  of  mankind.  Jesus  said  to  his  disciples,  “Ye  are 
the  light  of  the  world  ...  ye  are  the  salt  of  the  earth.” 
From  them  was  to  go  forth  an  illuminating,  renovating 
power.  Seeing  their  good  works,  attracted  by  their 
spirit,  other  men  were  to  be  brought  to  the  Father. 
The  brotherhood  of  Christian  believers  was  the  dwell¬ 
ing-place  in  which  the  living  God  made  his  abode :  they 


BIBLICAL  CRITICISM  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  411 


weie  his  “house,”  as  the  temple  was  his  house  under 
the  former  dispensation.1  They  are  expressly  declared 
to  be  the  “  temple  ”  of  God,  in  which  his  Spirit  abides.2 
The  “pillar  and  ground  of  the  truth”  — that  which 
upholds  the  truth  in  the  world,  and  is  like  a  founda¬ 
tion  underneath  it  —  is  the  Church.  It  is  not  said  to 
be  books  which  had  been  written,  or  which  were  to  be 
written,  but  the  community  of  faithful  souls.3  A  so¬ 
ciety  had  been  brought  into  being,  —  a  people  of  God, 
with  an  open  eye  to  discern  spiritual  things.  A  vine- 
stock  had  been  planted,  the  branches  of  which,  if  they 
did  not  dissever  themselves,  would  bear  fruit. 

2.  Revelation  is  historical :  the  means  of  revelation 
are  primarily  the  dealings  of  God  with  men.  The  reve¬ 
lation  of  God  to  the  Hebrew  people  was  made  through 
the  providential  guidance  and  government  which  deter¬ 
mined  the  course  of  their  history.  When  the  sacred 
writers  —  as  the  authors  of  the  Psalms,  or  inspired 
orators  like  the  protomartyr  Stephen  —  speak  of  divine 
revelation,  they  recount  the  ways  in  which  God  has  led 
his  people, — the  separation  of  Abraham,  the  disclosure 
of  God  in  the  history  of  the  patriarchs  who  followed 
him,  the  manifestation  of  God  in  the  deliverance  from 
bondage  in  Egypt  by  the  hand  of  Moses,  in  the  leading 
of  Israel  through  the  wilderness,  in  the  conquest  of  the 
land  which  they  inhabited,  in  the  various  instances  of 
national  prosperity  and  national  disaster  which  followed. 
Events  had  been  so  arranged,  signal  rewards  had  been 
so  made  to  alternate  with  signal  chastisements,  that 
God  was  more  and  more  brought  home  to  their  minds 
and  hearts  in  his  true  character.  The  nations  generally 
valued  their  divinities  for  the  protection  and  help  which 

1  Heb.  iii.  2,  5,  x.  21;  1  Pet.  iv.  17,  cf.  Ephes.  ii.  22 

*  1  Cor.  iii.  16  ;  2  Cor.  vi.  16.  8  1  Tim.  it.  15. 


412  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


they  afforded.  This  was  the  ordinary  heathen  view, 
Under  the  divine  training  of  the  Israelites,  they  rose  to 
a  higher  and  altogether  different  conception.  National 
downfall,  and  what  seemed  utter  ruin,  did  not  signify 
that  Jehovah  was  powerless.  These  calamities  were 
the  chastisement  inflicted  on  them  by  God  himself.  It 
was  not  that  God  was  overcome  by  stronger  powers :  it 
was  he  himself  who  had  brought  on  them  defeat  and 
exile,  and  the  desolation  of  their  altars  and  homes. 
Hence  they  were  moved  to  cling  to  him  all  the  closer. 
They  were  saved  from  complete  despair.  They  could 
believe  that  God  might  not  have  utterly  forsaken  them. 
They  ascended  to  a  higher  point  of  view.  They  learned 
to  contemplate  God  both  as  holy,  as  actuated  by  ethical 
motives  in  his  government,  as  just  to  punish,  and  mer¬ 
ciful  to  spare  and  to  forgive  the  contrite,  and  as  the 
Ruler,  not  of  themselves  alone,  but  of  the  whole  earth. 
The  thread  of  his  all-governing  purpose  and  will  ran, 
not  through  the  history  of  Israel  alone,  but  through 
the  fate  and  fortunes  of  all  nations.  By  experiences 
of  actual  life  under  the  providential  sway  of  God,  their 
knowledge  of  him  expanded,  their  communion  with 
him  became  more  intimate  and  more  intelligent.  A 
father  discloses  himself  to  his  children  by  his  man* 
agement  of  them  from  day  to  day,  and  from  year  to 
year.  His  smile  rewards  them.  He  frowns  upon  them 
when  they  go  astray.  They  are  trained  to  confide  in 
him.  They  know  him  more  and  more  as  they  live 
under  his  care,  and  witness  the  manifestation  of  his 
qualities  in  the  successive  periods  of  their  lives.  The 
didactic  element  is  not  wanting.  The  father  teaches, 
as  well  as  guides  and  governs.  Explanation,  admoni¬ 
tion,  —  it  may  be,  outpourings  of  grief  and  affection,  — 
are  intermingled  with  the  instruction  contained  in  act 


BIBLICAL  CRITICISM  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  413 


and  deed.  His  dealings  with  them  are  not  left  to  be 
misinterpreted.  Their  purport  is  made  clear,  if  need 
be,  by  verbal  elucidation.  They  are  intermingled  with 
counsel  and  command.  Somewhat  after  this  manner, 
in  the  course  of  the  history  of  Israel,  “the  servant  ”  of 
the  Lord,  not  only  were  heroes  raised  up  providentially 
to  lead  armies,  and  administer  civil  affairs,  but  holy 
men  were  called  upon  the  stage  to  make  known  the 
meaning  of  the  doings  of  God,  to  point  the  presumptu¬ 
ous  and  the  desponding  to  the  future,  to  give  voice  to 
the  spirit  of  prayer  and  praise  which  the  character  of 
God,  and  his  relation  to  them,  should  appropriately  in¬ 
spire.  Prophets,  with  vision  clarified  by  light  shining 
into  their  souls  from  above,  expounded  the  providential 
dealings  of  God,  read  aloud  his  purposes  discovered  in 
them,  commanded,  warned,  and  consoled  in  his  name. 

If  we  turn  to  the  revelation  of  God  in  the  gospel,  we 
observe  the  same  method.  It  is  an  historical  manifesta¬ 
tion.  A  child  is  born  at  Bethlehem,  and  brought  up  at 
Nazareth,  consecrated  by  baptism  in  the  Jordan,  col¬ 
lects  about  him  a  company  of  chosen  followers,  lives  in 
intercourse  with  men,  performs  miracles  of  healing  and 
deliverance,  dies,  and  re-appears  from  the  grave.  He 
teaches ;  and  his  teaching  is  indispensable  to  the  effect 
to  be  produced,  and  is  most  precious.  But  his  own  per¬ 
son  and  character,  his  deeds  of  power  and  mercy,  his 
death  for  the  remission  of  sins,  his  resurrection,  ascen¬ 
sion,  and  continued  agency  through  the  Spirit  —  it  is 
in  these  facts  and  transactions  that  the  gospel  centres. 
They  are  the  material,  the  vehicle,  of  revelation.  The 
didactic  element  is  to  unfold  their  intrinsic  significance. 
It  is  to  insure  against  misunderstanding,  and  to  impress 
on  the  hearts  and  minds  of  men  the  inherent  meaning 
of  these  deeds  of  God  in  human  history. 


414  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


3.  The  persons  and  transactions  through  which  reve¬ 
lation.  is  made,  one  must  remember,  are  anterior  to  the 
Scriptures  that  relate  to  them.  The  Apostle  Paul 
traces  back  the  line  of  God’s  people  to  Abraham  and 
to  the  faith  that  sprang  up  in  his  soul.  This  faith  of 
Abraham  preceded,  of  course,  every  record  of  it,  arid 
every  thing  that  was  written  about  it.  There  could  be 
no  narrative  of  divine  judgments  and  deliverances,  and 
of  their  effect  on  the  religious  consciousness  of  the  peo¬ 
ple,  prior  to  the  occurrences  in  question  and  to  the 
observation  of  their  result.  As  fast  as  sacred  literature 
arose,  its  influence  would  be  more  or  less  felt ;  but  this 
literature  presupposed  and  rested  on  a  progressive  reli¬ 
gious  life  and  on  the  historical  forces  which  fostered  as 
well  as  originated  it.  The  great  fact  of  the  old  dispen¬ 
sation,  its  palpable  outcome,  was  a  people  imbued  with 
the  spirit  of  a  pure  theism,  separated  from  the  heathen 
world  by  the  possession  of  an  exalted  faith  in  God,  and 
of  a  great  hope  of  redemption  inseparably  conjoined 
with  it,  —  a  people  bearing  witness  to  God  in  the  midst 
of  the  pagan  world.  In  like  manner,  the  Church  of 
the  new  covenant  preceded  the  New-Testament  writ¬ 
ings.  Jesus  himself  wrote  nothing.  As  far  as  we  know, 
at  the  date  of  his  ascension,  nothing  respecting  him  had 
been  put  in  writing.  His  words,  his  miracles,  the  things 
that  he  suffered,  his  resurrection,  were  unrecorded. 
Not  less  than  a  score  of  years  may  have  passed  before 
those  first  essays  at  recording  what  the  disciples  knew 
respecting  his  life,  which  Luke  notices  in  his  prologue, 
were  composed.  The  oldest  writings  in  the  New-Testa- 
ment  collection  are  certain  Epistles  of  Paul,  which  were 
called  out  by  his  necessary  absence  from  churches,  or 
by  special  emergencies.  Yet  the  Christian  faith  was 
in  being;  the  Church  was  in  being;  the  Gospel  was 


BIBLICAL  Cllll  IC1.SM  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  415 

preached;  the  testimony  of  the  apostles  was  spread 
abroad;  numerous  converts  were  maae.  Christianity 
was  not  made  by  the  Christian  Scriptures. 

4.  On  the  contrary,  the  Scriptures  are  the  product  of 
the  Church.  They  do  not  create  the  community :  the 
community  creates  them.  The  histories  of  the  Old 
Testament  record  the  progress  and  fortunes  of  the  peo 
pie.  The  historians  are  of  the  people  to  which  their 
works  relate.  The  prophets,  with  whatever  divine  gifts 
of  insight  and  foresight  they  are  endued,  spring,  in  like 
manner,  out  of  the  people.  The  fire  that  spreads  along 
the  earth,  here  and  there  shoots  upward,  and  sends  its 
light  afar.  The  psalm  is  the  inspired  expression  of  the 
devotion  of  the  great  congregation  gathered  within  the 
temple.  Even  the  Proverbs  have  an  origin  and  a  stamp 
among  the  Chosen  People  which  make  them  analogous 
to  the  proverb  elsewhere :  “  the  wisdom  of  many,  and 
the  wit  of  one.” 

As  the  Gospels  were  for  the  Church,  so  they  were 
from  the  Church.  Apostles  and  their  disciples  com¬ 
posed  them  to  meet  a  want  in  the  community  in  which 
the  authors  were  members  as  well  as  guides.  The  Epis¬ 
tles  were  the  product  of  the  Church,  as  well  as  means 
of  its  edification.  Their  authors  were  moved  by  the 
same  Spirit,  with  whatever  difference  of  mode  and  of 
measure,  as  the  membership  among  whom  they  ranked 
themselves  as  brethren.  There  was  not  even  an  inten¬ 
tion  to  compose  a  body  of  sacred  literature.  The  pur¬ 
pose  of  Providence  went  beyond  the  writers’  intent. 
The  very  word  “  Bible,”  denoting  a  single  book,  results 
from  a  blunder.  A  Greek  word,  in  the  plural,  signify¬ 
ing  originally  “  books,”  it  was  mistaken  in  the  middle 
ages  for  a  Latin  noun  of  the  first  declension  singular. 
It  was  not  until  the  oral  teaching  of  the  apostles  was 


416  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


beginning  to  be  forgotten,  and  their  immediate  disci 
pies  were  passing  away,  that  the  churches  bethought 
themselves  to  gather  together  in  a  volume  the  writings 
of  the  apostles,  and  writings  having  an  apostolic  char’ 
acter.  The  canon  was  of  slow  and  gradual  formation. 

The  foregoing  remarks  may  throw  some  light  on  the 
question  how  Christianity  stands  affected  by  biblical 
criticism.  The  Christian  faith  is  expressed  in  a  sum 
rnary  form  in  the  ancient  document  known  as  the  Apos¬ 
tles’  Creed.  In  its  doctrinal  aspect,  the  Christian  faith 
was  formulated  early  in  the  fourth  century,  in  the  creed 
called  the  Nicene,  which,  as  regards  its  main  affirma¬ 
tions,  has  received  the  sanction  of  most  organized  bodies 
of  Christians.  Neither  of  these  confessions  make  any 
declaration  respecting  those  particular  questions,  rela¬ 
tive  to  the  origin  of  books  and  the  kind  and  degree  of 
authority  that  pertains  to  them,  which  furnish  the  lead¬ 
ing  topics  of  biblical  criticism.  They  are  silent  on  the 
subject.  It  is  Christianity  in  its  facts  and  principles 

which  tliev  undertake  to  set  forth.  This  does  not  im- 
%/ 

ply  an  undervaluing  of  the  importance  of  the  question 
of  the  inspiration  and  authority  of  the  Bible.  It  illus¬ 
trates,  however,  the  point  that  the  Christian  system 
of  truth  is  separable  in  thought  from  varying  phases  of 
opinion  relative  to  the  origin  and  characteristics  of  the 
Scriptures. 

The  consideration  of  divine  revelation  as  having  for 
its  end  the  building  up  of  a  community  or  kingdom, 
and  as  made  through  the  vehicle  of  a  history  transacted 
on  the  earth,  lifts  us  upon  a  plane  where  critical  prob¬ 
lems,  within  a  certain  reasonable  limit,  may  be  regard¬ 
ed  with  comparative  indifference.  Within  that  limit, 
literary  questions  having  to  do  with  the  authorship  of 
books^  as,  for  example,  whether  it  be  simple  or  com- 


BIBLICAL  CRITICISM  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  417 


posite,  and  whether  traditional  impressions  as  to  au¬ 
thorship  are  well  founded ;  questions  having  to  do, 
also,  with  the  correctness  of  the  text  which  has  been 
transmitted  to  us ;  questions  as  to  the  order  of  succes¬ 
sion  in  the  stages  through  which  the  community  of  God 
has  passed ;  questions  as  to  the  accuracy  of  details  in 
historical  narratives  —  are  no  longer  felt  to  be  of  so  vital 
moment.  They  are  not  points  on  which  the  Christian 
religion  stands  or  falls.  The  timidity  which  springs 
out  of  the  idea  of  Christianity  as  exclusively  a  book- 
religion,  every  line  in  the  literature  of  which  is  clothed 
with  the  preternatural  sanctity  ascribed  by  Mohamme¬ 
dan  devotees  to  their  sacred  writings,  is  dissipated. 
The  Christian  believer,  as  long  as  fundamental  verities 
and  the  foundations  of  belief  on  which  they  stand  are 
unassailed,  is  no  more  disturbed  by  the  disclosure  of 
the  human  factor  in  the  origination  of  the  Scriptures, 
and  by  finding  that  it  played  a  more  extensive  part 
than  was  once  supposed.  The  treasure  is  not  lost  be¬ 
cause  it  is  distinctly  perceived  to  be  held  “  in  earthen 
vessels.” 

This  is  not  the  place  to  enter  into  a  discussion  of  the 
critical  questions  connected  with  the  Old-Testament 
books,  and  of  their  contents.  Yet,  on  this  topic,  a  single 
observation  may  be  made,  which  will  serve  still  further 
to  elucidate  the  meaning  of  what  has  been  said  above. 
The  observation  is,  that  the  religion  of  Christ  stands  in 
an  organic  relation  to  the  Old-Testament  religion,  and 
that  this  relation,  in  its  most  essential  features,  is  an 
historical  fact  that  admits  of  no  rational  doubt,  be  the 
views  taken  of  the  Old-Testament  literature  what  they 
may.  The  people  that  gave  birth  to  Jesus  Christ 
were  a  people  marked  by  distinctive  peculiarities,  which 
are  well  known,  abundantly  attested,  and  universally 


418  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


allowed  to  have  existed.  They  were  worshippers  ol 
one  God,  a  living  God,  a  Spirit,  the  Creator  and  sole 
Sovereign  of  the  universe.  Along  with  this  peculiar, 
exalted  theism  there  had  come  to  exist  the  Messianic 
expectation.  There  was  to  be  a  great  expansion,  purith 
cation,  triumph  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  —  the  commu¬ 
nity  of  his  worshippers.  There  was  to  be  a  deliverance, 
a  world- wide  extension  of  the  true  religion.  These  are 
acknowledged  facts.  How  did  that  state  of  things 
come  to  be?  How  did  that  peculiar  community  grow 
into  being,  which  furnished  the  human  and  temporal 
conditions  of  the  birth  and  career  of  Jesus?  How  shall 
we  explain  that  he  was  born  of  Israel,  and  not  of  the 
Greeks  or  Egyptians?  There  is  no  dispute  on  the 
question  whether  there  is  a  close,  organic  connection 
between  the  religion  of  Palestine  and  the  religion  of 
Christ.  It  is  a  fact  too  patent  to  be  doubted  for  a 
moment. 

Back  of  that  peculiar  religion,  and  that  whole  state  of 
things  which  existed  in  the  Palestinian  community  and 
its  foreign  offshoots  at  the  time  when  Jesus  was  born, 
there  lies  a  history.  So  vast  and  spreading  a  tree  is  not 
without  deep  roots.  It  is  perfectly  obvious  that  the 
Old-Testament  books  are  the  principal,  if  not  the  exclu¬ 
sive,  documents  from  which  we  can  acquaint  ourselves 
with  the  rise  and  progress  of  that  unique  religion  which 
was  the  precursor  and  parent  of  Christianity.  From 
them  we  must  learn  who  were  the  human  leaders,  civil 
and  religious,  through  whose  mediation  that  religion 
advanced  from  its  beginnings,  and  attained  to  the  de¬ 
velopment  which  it  is  found  to  have  reached  at  the 
approach  of  the  Christian  era.  Now,  inquiries  may  be 
started  as  to  the  order  of  succession  in  the  laws  and 
in  the  institutions  of  worship,  which  were  not  always 


BIBLICAL  CRITICISM  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  419 


the  same,  and  even  as  to  what  precisely  was  done  ai  d 
contributed  by  this  or  that  inspired  leader  or  teacher. 
These  questions  do  not  necessarily  touch  Christianity 
in  any  vital  part.  They  do  not  necessarily  affect  in 
any  substantial  degree  the  view  that  is  taken  of  the 
history  of  the  people  of  Israel.  Investigations  of 
Roman  history,  even  when  they  require  the  modifica¬ 
tion  of  previous  ideas,  do  not  alter  fundamentally  our 
conception  of  the  growth,  the  polity,  and  the  power  of 
the  Roman  Empire.  They  only  make  still  clearer  the 
ruling  ideas  that  animated  the  Roman  people.  The 
history  of  England  is  not  written  now  as  it  was  written 
a  hundred  years  ago ;  but  the  existence  of  the  English 
monarchy,  and  the  turning-points  in  its  origin  and 
growth,  are  left  untouched  by  the  scrutiny  of  historical 
criticism. 

One  of  the  questions  which  has  occasioned,  since  the 
beginning  of  this  century,  much  debate,  is  that  of  the 
authorship  of  the  Pentateuch,  —  whether  it  emanates, 
as  a  whole  or  in  part  (and,  if  in  part,  to  what  extent), 
from  the  pen  of  Moses.  Even  the  critics  who  carry  the 
theory  of  a  non-Mosaic  authorship  to  the  extreme  of 
denying  that  the  decalogue,  in  the  form  in  which  it 
stands,  proceeds  from  its  reputed  human  author,  do  not, 
as  a  rule,  call  in  question  the  fact  that  Moses  was  the 
founder  of  the  legislation  and  religious  institutions  of 
the  nation  of  Israel.  Reuss,  one  of  the  most  learned 
of  the  critics  of  this  type,  emphatically  declares1  that  * 
the  agency  of  Moses  was  of  so  influential  and  far- 
reaching  a  character,  that  in  the  whole  course  of  the 
history  of  Israel,  prior  to  Jesus,  there  appeared  no  per¬ 
sonage  to  be  compared  with  him.  He  towers  above  all 
that  followed  in  the  long  line  of  heroes  and  prophets. 

1  Geschichte  d.  heiligen  Schriften  d.  A.  T.,  vol.  i. 


420  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


On  any  view  that  does  not  pass  the  bounds  of  reason, 
“the  law  came  by  Moses.”  The  recollection  of  the 
leadership  of  Moses,  of  his  grand  and  dominating 
agency  in  the  deliverance  of  the  people  from  bondage, 
and  in  laying  the  foundations  of  their  theocratic  polity, 
was  indelibly  stamped  upon  the  Hebrew  mind.  To 
discredit  a  tradition  so  deeply  rooted  in  the  generations 
that  followed  would  be  a  folly  of  incredulity.  It  might 
almost  be  said  that  the  voice  of  the  great  Lawgiver 
reverberates  down  the  subsequent  ages  of  Hebrew  his¬ 
tory,  until  the  appearance  of  Him  whose  teaching  ful¬ 
filled,  and  in  that  sense  superseded  the  utterances  of 
them  “of  old  time.”  Ewald  has  dwelt  impressively 
on  the  living  memory,  the  memory  of  the  heart,  trans¬ 
mitted  from  father  to  son,  of  the  great  redemption  from 
Egyptian  slavery,  —  the  standing  type  of  the  mighty 
spiritual  deliverance  to  be  achieved  by  a  greater  than 
Moses.  If  Moses  was  in  reality  so  effective  an  agent 
in  forming  the  Israelitish  nation,  and  in  shaping  its 
peculiar  system ;  if,  in  truth,  so  powerful  an  impulse 
emanated  from  him  as  Reuss  allows,  the  question  is 
naturally  suggested,  whether  there  would  be  wanting 
(since  the  art  of  writing  was  then  well  known)  contem¬ 
porary  records,  and  something  from  the  pen  of  Moses 
himself.  If  there  is  nothing  improbable  in  the  state 
ment  that  he  was  learned  in  all  the  wisdom  of  the 
Egyptians,  then  it  is  surely  to  be  expected  that  he 
would,  to  some  extent,  have  committed  his  laws  and 
injunctions  to  writing.  If  so,  it  cannot  be  regarded  as 
unlikely  that  what  he  thus  composed  constitute  an  inr 
portant  part,  to  say  the  least,  of  the  materials  of  the 
Pentateuch.  But  these  are  critical  inquiries  upon 
which  we  are  not  called  on  here  to  dilate. 

In  defining  the  attitude  which  the  Christian  believei 


BIBLICAL  CKiTICISM  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  421 

may  reasonably  take  in  relation  to  biblical  criticism, 
there  are  two  or  three  considerations  which  deserve 
to  be  specially  insisted  on.  It  is  now  assumed  that  the 
evidences  of  the  supernatural  mission  of  Jesus,  and  of 
his  miracles,  have  produced  the  conviction  which  they 
warrant.  It  is  obvious,  in  the  first  place,  that  so  far  as 
critical  theories  spring  from  the  rejection  of  the  super¬ 
natural,  either  as  in  itself  impossible,  or  as  Laving  no 
function  in  connection  with  the  religion  of  Christ, 
those  theories  have  no  weight.  They  are  vitiated  by 
the  bias  which  lies  at  their  root.  They  proceed  upon 
an  unscientific,  because  disproved,  hypothesis,  that  the 
religion  of  the  Bible  is  a  purely  human  product.  When 
it  is  denied  that  a  particular  author  wrote  a  certain 
book,  or  that  it  was  written  at  a  certain  date,  or  that 
incidents  related  in  it  are  true,  or  that  predictions  in 
it  were  made,  and  this  denial  depends  simply  on  the 
a  priori  disbelief  in  the  supernatural,  it  is  of  no  value, 
and,  to  a  Christian  believer,  will  carry  no  weight.  A 
theory  respecting  the  matters  just  enumerated  may  be 
broached  by  one  who  disbelieves  in  the  resurrection  of 
Jesus,  and  it  may  be  sound,  although  it  contravenes 
traditional  opinion ;  but  as  far  as  that  theory  involves, 
as  a  presupposition  and  a  conditio  sine  qua  non ,  the  de¬ 
nial  or  doubt  of  the  resurrection,  it  is  worthless.  This 
criterion  at  once  disposes  of  a  mass  of  critical  specu¬ 
lation  about  the  literature  of  the  Bible  and  its  con¬ 
tents,  which  has  no  more  solid  foundation  than  the 
arbitrary  assumption  that  a  miracle  is  impossible,  or 
that  Christianity  is  not  from  God  in  any  other  sense 
than  is  true  of  Buddhism.  Belief  in  Christianity  as 
coming  supernaturally  from  God,  does  not  justify  one 
in  dispensing  with  critical  investigation,  which,  it  need 
not  be  said,  in  order  to  be  of  any  value,  must  be 


422  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

prosecuted  thoroughly  and  in  a  candid  and  truth-loving 
spi.it.  Neither  does  it  justify  one  in  disregarding  the 
canons  of  historical  judgment,  for  the  reason  that  par¬ 
ticular  features  of  a  narrative  are  miraculous,  and  that 
miracles  are  possible,  and  have  actually  taken  place  at 
points  along  the  line  of  divine  revelation.  An  historical 
religion  must  verify  itself,  not  only  in  general  and  as  a 
whole,  but  also  in  its  various  parts,  to  the  historical 
inquirer.  That  is  to  say,  from  the  general  truth,  when 
once  established,  of  the  supernatural  origin  of  the  reli¬ 
gion  of  the  Bible,  the  strict  verity  of  all  the  facts 
recorded  in  it,  whether  natural  or  supernatural,  cannot 
at  once  be  logically  concluded.  The  tests  of  historical 
criticism  must  be  applied  as  well  to  details  as  to  the 
system  as  a  whole. 

Does  it  comport  with  the  essentials  of  Christian  belief 
to  hold  that  deception  may,  in  any  instances,  have  been 
used  in  connection  with  the  authorship  of  books  of 
Sacred  Scripture?  For  example,  can  it  be  admitted 
that  what  is  known  in  ecclesiastical  history  as  “pious 
fraud”  had  a  part  in  the  framing  of  scriptural  books? 
For  instance,  is  it  consistent  to  allow  that  an  author 
may  have  palmed  off  a  book,  historical  or  didactic,  as 
the  production  of  an  honored  man  of  an  earlier  time  ? 
In  answer  to  these  questions,  it  is  to  be  said  at  the 
outset,  that  the  supposition  of  an  intended  deception 
ought  not  to  be  allowed  without  satisfactory  proof.  It 
cannot  be  safely  asserted  that  the  author  or  authors  of 
the  apocryphal  book  of  Enoch,  which  is  referred  to  in 
Jude  (ver.  14),  and  no  part  of  which  goes  back  farther 
than  the  age  of  the  Maccabees,  meant  that  readers 
should  believe  Enoch,  “the  seventh  from  Adam,”  to 
have  been  the  writer.  It  may  be  in  this,  as  no  doubt  it 
was  in  other  cases,  a  mode  of  giving  dignity  and  weight 


BIBLICAL  CRITICISM  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  423 


to  lessons  which  the  real  author  thought  would  be  less 
efficacious  if  put  forth  in  his  own  name,  but  which  he 
cast  into  this  form  with  no  intent  to  have  them  believed 
to  be  productions  of  the  elder  time.  At  the  same  time, 
we  should  be  cautious  about  assuming  that  a  refine¬ 
ment  of  ethical  feeling  equal  to  that  which  Christianity 
develops  and  demands,  existed  at  all  periods  under 
the  ancient  dispensation.  If  there  was,  in  general,  an 
inferior  stage  in  the  development  of  conscience,  it  is  not 
incredible,  that,  even  in  holy  men,  there  was  a  less  dell 
cate  sense  of  truth  and  a  less  sensitive  observance  of 
the  obligation  of  strict  veracity.  How  far  it  may  have 
pleased  the  Divine  Being  to  allow  this  lack  of  moral 
discernment  to  affect  the  literary  activity,  as  we  know 
that  it  affected  in  other  provinces  the  personal  con¬ 
duct  and  judgment,  of  holy  and  inspired  men,  we  can¬ 
not  a  priori  —  at  least,  not  with  absolute  confidence  - — 
determine.  Every  thing  must  yield  at  last  to  the  fair 
verdicts  of  a  searching  but  reverent  scholarship,  which 
explores  the  field  with  the  free  and  assured  step  of  a 
Christian  believer. 

This  brings  us  to  the  further  remark,  that  the  author¬ 
ity  of  Christ  and  of  the  apostles,  once  established  by 
convincing  proofs,  is  decisive.  Nothing  that  clashes 
with  that  authority,  when  it  is  rightly  understood  and 
defined,  can  stand.  The  evidence  against  any  critical 
theory,  which,  if  admitted,  would  be  in  collision  with 
the  authority  of  Jesus  and  of  the  apostles,  would  tell 
with  equal  force  against  the  fundamental  faith  of  a 
Christian.  While  this  is  to  be  borne  in  mind,  it  is 
equally  necessary  to  avoid  erroneous  interpretations  of 
their  teaching,  as  far  as  it  bears  on  literary  and  critical 
questions  in  connection  with  the  Scriptures,  their  au¬ 
thorship  and  contents.  A  dogmatic  utterance  on  such 


424  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


points,  on  the  part  of  the  Saviour  or  of  the  apostles,  is 
not  to  be  hastily  inferred  from  references  and  citations 
which  may  not  have  been  intended  to  carry  this  conse¬ 
quence.  Not  less  essential  is  it  to  avoid  an  incautious, 
unverifiable  extension  of  the  teaching  function  which 
was  claimed  by  Jesus  for  himself,  and  was  conveyed  by 
him  to  the  apostles.  The  incarnation,  in  the  deeper 
apprehension  of  it  which  enters  into  the  evangelical 
theology  of  the  present  time,  is  perceived  to  involve 
limitations  of  the  Saviour  himself  in  statu  humiliationis , 
which  were  formerly  ignored.  A  stricter  exegesis  does 
not  tolerate  the  artificial  exposition,  which  was  once  in 
vogue,  of  passages  which  assert  or  indicate  such  a  re¬ 
striction,  voluntary  in  its  origin,  during  the  period 
when  the  Lord  was  a  man  among  men.  It  must  be 
made  clear  that  the  Lord  intended  to  declare  himself 
on  points  like  those  to  which  we  have  adverted,  and 
that,  directly  or  by  implication,  he  included  them  within 
that  province  which  he  knew  to  belong  to  him  as  a  re¬ 
ligious  and  ethical  teacher,  and  in  which  he  spoke  as 
“  one  having  authority.” 

If  so  much  must  be  admitted  by  the  most  reverent 
disciple  respecting  the  Great  Teacher  himself,  surely  not 
less  must  be  said  of  the  apostles.  How  far  peculiarities 
of  education,  traditional  and  current  impressions  re¬ 
specting  the  topics  involved  in  bibiical  criticism,  were 
left  untouched,  but  continued  to  influence  them,  —  not 
only  while  they  were  with  Jesus,  but  also  when  the 
Spirit  of  inspiration  qualified  them  to  go  forth  as 
heralds  in  his  service,  —  can  be  settled  by  no  a  priori 
dictum,  but  only  through  processes  of  careful  study. 
The  sooner  the  wise  words  of  Bishop  Butler  are  laid  to 
heart  by  Christian  people,  the  better  will  it  be  for  their 
own  peace  of  mini,  and  for  the  cause  of  Christianity  in 


BIBLICAL  CRITICISM  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  425 

its  relation  to  doubters  and  in  its  conflict  with  foes. 
“The  only  question,”  says  Butler,  “concerning  the 
truth  of  Christianity,  is  whether  it  be  a  real  revelation, 
not  whether  it  be  attended  with  every  circumstance 
which  we  should  have  looked  for ;  and,  concerning  the 
authority  of  Scripture,  whether  it  be  what  it  claims  to 
be,  not  whether  it  be  a  book  of  such  sort,  and  so  pro- 
mulged,  as  weak  men  are  apt  to  fancy  a  book  contain¬ 
ing  a  divine  revelation  should  be.” 1 

The  apostles  were  empowered  to  understand  and  to 
expound  the  gospel.  The  real  purport  and  end  of  the 
mission,  the  death,  the  resurrection,  of  Jesus,  were 
opened  up  to  their  vision.  His  words,  brought  back  to 
their  remembrance,  unfolded  the  hidden  meaning  with 
which  they  were  laden.  The  relation  of  the  anterior 
dispensation  to  the  new  era,  the  one  being  anticipatory 
of  the  other,  they,  if  not  instantly,  at  least  gradually, 
saw  into.  Thus  were  they  qualified  to  lead,  and  not  to 
mislead,  to  teach  and  to  guide  the  Church.  But  not 
only  were  they  men  of  like  passions  with  ourselves,  but 
in  knowledge  they  had  no  part  in  omniscience.  That 
which  inspiration  made  clear  to  them  was  not  made 
clear  instantly  and  all  at  once.  He  who  was  not  be¬ 
hind  the  chief  of  the  apostles  placed  himself  among 
those  who  now  “see  through  a  glass,  darkly,”  and 
waited  for  the  full  disclosure  of  truth  which  should 
supersede  his  dim  and  fragmentary  perceptions. 

There  is  an  order  of  things  to  be  believed.  Before 
the  scriptures  of  the  New  Testament,  Christ  was 
preached  and  believed  in :  so  now,  prior  to  minute  in¬ 
quiries,  and  the  exact  formulation  of  doctrines,  about 
the  canon  and  inspiration,  Christ  is  offered  to  faith. 
The  grand  outlines  of  the  gospel,  both  on  the  side  of 

1  See  also  the  context,  Analogy,  p.  ii.  c.  iii. 


426  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


fact  and  of  doctrine,  stand  out  in  bold  relief.  They 
are  attested  by  historical  proof.  They  are  verified  by 
evidences  which  are  irrespective  of  many  of  the  topics 
of  theological  debate  and  of  biblical  criticism.  The 
recognition  of  Christ  in  his  character  as  the  Son  of 
God  and  Saviour  of  men,  is  the  prerequisite  for  enga¬ 
ging  successfully  in  more  remote  and  difficult  inquiries 
respecting  the  literature  and  the  history  of  revealed 
religion. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


THE  CANON  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT  IN  ITS  RELATION 

TO  THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.1 

By  the  canon  of  the  New  Testament  is  understood 
the  books,  collectively  taken,  which  have  authority 
among  Christians  as  regulative  of  belief  and  conduct. 
The  word  “  canon  ”  signified  at  first  a  rule,  or  measur¬ 
ing-rod.  It  was  applied  in  the  Church  to  the  brief 
creed  or  summary  of  Christian  truth,  which,  in  some¬ 
what  varying  form,  as  early  as  the  closing  period  of  the 
second  century,  was  recognized  as  including  the  essen- 


1  Only  a  few  words  can  here  be  said  respecting  the  canon  of  the  Old 
Testament.  Its  three  departments  comprised:  (1)  The  Thora,  or  Penta¬ 
teuch;  (2)  The  Prophets,  embracing  the  historical  books  from  Joshua  to 
2  Kings  (inclusive),  Isaiah,  Jeremiah,  Ezekiel,  and  the  twelve  “  Minor 
Prophets;”  (3)  the  Hagiographa,  comprising  all  the  remaining  books 
usually  considered  by  Protestants  canonical.  These  three  collections 
were  made,  as  scholars  now  generally  hold,  separately  and  succes¬ 
sively.  Josephus,  about  A.D.  100,  in  his  vindication  of  Jewish  history 
against  the  aspersions  of  Apion,  declares  (I.  8)  the  number  of  books 
which  are  by  his  countrymen  “justly  believed  to  be  divine”  to  be 
twenty-two.  It  is  clear  that  he  includes  all  of  our  Old-Testament  ca¬ 
nonical  books,  and  no  others.  His  method  of  combining  books  —  he  reck¬ 
ons,  for  example,  the  two  books  of  Kings  as  one  —  reduces  the  total 
number  to  twenty-two.  That  this  was  the  canon  received  by  his  Pales¬ 
tinian  contemporaries  in  the  age  of  the  apostles  may  be  safely  in¬ 
ferred.  There  are  several  references  in  the  New  Testament  to  things 
recorded  in  the  apocryphal  books;  but  none  of  these  books  are  spoken 
of  in  terms  to  imply  that  they  were  classified  among  the  authoritative 
writings  referred  to  above.  The  whole  subject  of  the  authorship  and 
date  of  the  several  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  of  the  collection 
of  them  into  the  canon,  pertains  to  a  distinct  branch  of  theological 
science,  —  the  Introduction  to  the  Old  Testament. 


427 


428  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


tials  of  the  common  faith,  —  the  regula  fidei  as  it  was 
styled.  The  word  “canon”  was  first  used  to  designate 
the  Holy  Scriptures,  in  the  fourth  century,  by  the  cele¬ 
brated  Alexandrian  Father,  Athanasius,  who  speaks  of 
this  definite  body  of  writings  as  “  canonized,”  that  is, 
as  accepted ;  this  acceptance  being  a  part  of  the  canon, 
or  rule  of  faith.  Subsequently  “  canon  ”  acquired  the 
sense  which  it  now  holds,  and  was  used  by  the  Latin 
Fathers  to  denote  the  books,  which,  to  the  exclusion  of 
all  others,  regulate  Christian  belief  and  teaching. 

On  what  principle,  by  what  method,  and  at  what 
time,  was  it  ascertained  what  books  the  canon  of  the 
New  Testament  should  comprise?  How  far  is  the  tra¬ 
ditional  determination  of  this  question  to  be  relied  on  ? 
If  there  are  disputes  or  serious  doubts  respecting  par¬ 
ticular  books,  what  bearing  have  these  questions  on  the 
Christian  faith?  Do  they,  or  do  they  not,  affect  its 
foundations? 

1.  It  is  obvious,  that,  if  we  do  not  acknowledge  the 
infallible  authority  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  the  ques¬ 
tions  pertaining  to  the  canon  must  be  determined  by 
historical  inquiry.  The  weight  to  be  attached  to  tra¬ 
dition  and  to  ancient  opinion  must  be  decided  by  the 
same  method.  There  is  no  other  course  that  is  open  to 
a  Protestant.  No  verdict  on  these  points  has  come 
down  from  any  ancient  council  having  an  oecumenical 
character.  Such  a  verdiot,  if  it  existed,  could  not 
govern  the  opinion  of  a  consistent  Protestant,  since 
general  councils  were  capable  of  error.1  We  must  look 
at  the  evidence,  external  and  internal,  on  which  the 
claim  of  each  book  to  apostolic  authorship  or  apostolic 
authority  rests. 

2.  Even  a  cursory  attention  to  ancient  ecclesiastical 

1  See  Article  XXI.  of  the  Thirty-nine  Articles  of  the  English  Church. 


THE  CANON  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 


429 


history  shows  that  the  canon  was  of  slow  and  gradual 
formation.  While  the  apostles  were  living,  their  oral 
teaching  excited  most  interest.  Their  writings  were 
supplementary  to  their  oral  instruction.1  These  writ¬ 
ings  would  circulate,  to  a  certain  extent,  from  church 
to  church.  In  some  cases  the  apostles  would  direct 
that  a  letter  should  be  sent  to  other  churches  by  the 
church  to  which  it  was  immediately  addressed.2  It 
was  only  when  the  apostles  had  left  the  world,  and  the 
void  made  by  their  absence  was  felt;  when  heretical 
leaders,  like  Marcion  and  Valentinus,  brought  in  novel 
and  obnoxious  doctrines ;  when  sectaries  began  to  alter 
the  writings  of  the  apostles,  or  forge  books  in  their 
name  ;  when,  therefore,  the  churches  felt  the  necessity 
of  guarding  the  legacy  of  apostolic  teaching,  and  draw- 
ing  together,  for  the  security  of  the  faith,  in  a  more 
compact,  defensive  fellowship,  —  it  was  only  when  this 
new  state  of  things  arose,  that  collections  began  to  be 
made,  here  and  there,  of  books  known  to  be  apostolic 
and  authoritative.  The  Old-Testament  scriptures  had 
been  received  from  the  beginning,  and  publicly  read,  in 
the  assemblies  of  Christians.  Justin  Martyr  (about 
A.D.  150),  who  stands  intermediate  between  the  “  apos¬ 
tolic  Fathers,”  who  had  seen  the  apostles  face  to  face, 
and  eminent  writers,  like  Irenseus,  of  the  next  following 
generation,  tells  us  that  the  Gospels  (the  “Memora¬ 
bilia,”  composed  by  the  apostles  and  their  companions), 
were  read  on  the  Lord’s  Day  in  the  churches  in  city 
and  country.  Justin  was  an  opponent  of  Marcion  who 
was  a  sincere  but  one-sided  partisan  of  Paul ;  and  Mar¬ 
cion,  we  are  told,  framed  a  canon  of  his  own,  embracing 

1  Rom.  i.  10,  xv.  3,  28;  1  Cor.  iv.  17,  xi.  2,  23;  Col.  15.  7;  2  Tbess.  it  1^ 
etc. 

a  Col.  iv.  16. 


430  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


a  mutilated  edition  of  Luke’s  Gospel,  with  ten  Epistles 
of  his  favorite  apostle ;  the  Pastoral  Epistles  and  the 
Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  not  being  included  in  his  list. 
Justin  gives  evidence,  incidentally,  of  an  acquaintance 
with  the  leading  Epistles  of  Paul,  especially  Romans, 
First  Corinthians,  Colossians,  Second  Thessalonians, 
and  with  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews.  The  Apocalypse 
he  mentions  by  name,  ascribing  it  to  John  the  Apostle.1 
It  is  safe  to  infer  that  the  custom  of  bringing  together 
the  apostolic  writings  into  a  volume  was  springing  up. 

The  Syrian  canon  is,  perhaps,  the  oldest  example  of 
collections  of  this  kind.  Its  date  is  not  later  than  the 
closing  years  of  the  second  century.  It  was  the  Bible 
of  the  Syrian  Christians  of  that  day.  The  ancient 
manuscripts  of  this  version  comprise  the  books  in  our 
canon,  with  the  exception  of  Second  and  Third  John, 
Second  Peter,  Jude,  and  the  Apocalypse.  How  shall 
the  omission  of  these  books  be  accounted  for  ?  Prob¬ 
ably,  if  known  to  the  Syrian  churches,  they  were  not 
considered  genuine ;  for,  if  held  to  have  been  written 
by  apostles,  they  would  not  have  been  excluded.  Their 
absence  does  not  prove  that  they  did  not  exist,  or  that 
they  are  spurious ;  but  it  is  one  fact  to  be  considered, 
in  conjunction  with  all  the  rest  of  the  evidence  bearing 
on  the  case,  in  determining  these  questions. 

In  the  company  of  the  Syrian  canon  belongs  the 
nearly  contemporary  Old-Latin  version.  It  was  the 
Bible  of  the  North- African  churches,  where  Christianity 
had  been  early  planted,  and  had  greatly  flourished.  In 
it,  originally,  there  were  not  found  the  Epistle  of  James 
and  Second  Peter,  neither  of  which  appears  to  have  any 
Latin  testimonies  in  its  favor  prior  to  Hilary,  Jerome. 

1  See  Westcott,  History  of  the  Canon  (5th  ed.),  171;  cf.  Charteris, 
Uanonicity,  p.  cxviii. 


THE  CANON  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 


431 


and  Rufinus,  in  the  fourth  century.1  Thus  we  see 
that  James,  while  known  and  acknowledged  in  the 
Syrian  churches,  had  not  found  its  way  into  this 
Old-Latin  canon ;  and  we  see  that  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews,  which  in  some  parts  of  the  Church  was  placed 
among  the  apostolic  writings,  is  not  acknowledged  by 
the  Africans.  Before  Tertullian,  however,  that  is  prior 
to  A.D.  190,  this  Epistle  was  added  to  their  list. 

The  Muratorian  canon,  which  can  hardly  be  later  than 
A.D.  170,  is  probably  of  Roman  origin,  and  probably 
represents  the  canon  in  use  among  Western  churches 
at  the  time  of  its  composition.  It  is  a  fragment ;  but  it 
contained  the  four  Gospels,  and  most  of  the  writings  in 
our  canon.  It  omits  James,  First  and  Second  Peter, 
Third  John,  and  the  Hebrews.  It  mentions  an  Apoca¬ 
lypse  of  Peter,  with  the  remark  that  some  will  not  have 
it  read  in  the  churches.  The  Shepherd  of  Hermas, 
it  says,  may  be  used  for  private  reading,  but  not  pub¬ 
licly.  It  has  been  conjectured  that  the  document  is 
imperfect,  and  that  James,  Hebrews,  and  First  Peter 
may  have  stood  in  the  list ;  there  being  no  other  evi¬ 
dence  that  First  Peter  was  ever  disputed,  and  since 
Hebrews  and  James,  which  are  supposed  to  have  been 
then  known  to  the  Roman  Church,  are  not  mentioned, 
even  in  the  way  of  exclusion.  The  mention  of  the 
Shepherd  of  Hermas  indicates  the  line  of  distinction 
that  was  more  and  more  drawn  between  canonical  writ¬ 
ings  and  those  merely  having  a  high  repute  for  their 
edifying  quality.  The  allusion  to  the  Apocalypse  of 
Peter  indicates  the  criticism  that  was  exercised,  and 
shows  a  disposition  to  weed  out  apocryphal  writings. 

1  See  Westcott,  p.  258.  The  case  of  Second  Peter  we  refer  to  later 
A  different  view  on  this  question  is  still  not  without  its  advocates.  See 
Professor  B.  B.  Warfield’s  elaborate  essays  (Southern  Presbyterian 
Be  view,  January,  1882,  April,  1883),  who  thinks  that  this  Epistle  was 
used  even  by  Clement  of  Rome  ( circa  A.D.  97). 


432  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

Prior  to  the  date  assigned  to  the  Muratorian  canon, 
there  is  no  distinct  trace  of  Second  Peter.  The  Epis¬ 
tles  of  James  and  of  Jude,  Hebrews,  and  Revelation, 
are  received  in  some  places,  but  not  in  others.  No 
strict  lines  are  drawn  about  a  canon,  nor  are  its  criteria 
and  boundaries  a  theme  of  controversy  or  of  ecclesias¬ 
tical  action. 

Of  the  leading  ecclesiastical  writers,  Irenaeus,  Bishop 
of  Lyons  (about  A.D.  190),  born  in  Asia  Minor,  and  a 
representative  of  the  churches  in  Gaul,  contains  no 
passages  implying  the  use  of  James,  Third  John,  Second 
Peter,  Jude,  or  Philemon ;  nor  did  he  attribute  the 
Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  to  Paul,  or  treat  it  as  authori¬ 
tative.1  All  the  other  books  in  our  canon  are  recog¬ 
nized  by  Irenaeus.  Clement  of  Alexandria,  a  contem¬ 
porary,  does  not  recognize  as  canonical  James,  Second 
Peter,2  and  Third  John.  The  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews 
he  ascribes  to  Paul,  but  suggests  that  it  was  turned 
into  Greek  by  Luke.  Tertullian  has  no  knowledge  of 
Second  Peter,  or  Second  and  Third  John  :  he  ascribes 
Hebrews  to  Barnabas,  and  puts  it,  with  First  Peter  and 
Jude,  into  the  second  grade  of  apostolic  writings.3 
There  are  few  traces  of  the  use  of  First  Peter  in  the 
Latin  Church  prior  to  Tertullian.  This  Epistle  was 
written  to  Christians  in  Asia  Minor.  Origen,  the  most 
scholarly  of  the  Fathers  living  in  the  next  age  (he 
died  A.D.  254),  is  not  inclined  to  ascribe  the  Epistle 
of  James  to  the  Lord’s  brother;  he  doubts  the  authori¬ 
ty  of  J ude ;  he  does  not  recognize  Second  and  Third 
John  or  Second  Peter;  he  finds  in  Hebrews  the  doc- 

1  See  Westcott,  p.  384.  Cf.  Schmidt,  in  Herzog  and  Plitt’s  Real- 
Enc.ykl.,  Art.  Kanon  d.  N.  T.,  p.  459. 

2  On  Clement  in  relation  to  Second  Peter,  see  Westcott’s  Discussion, 
pp.  256,  258  Charteris,  lxxxii. 

8  Cf.  Schmidt,  p.  459, 


THE  CANON  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 


438 


trine  of  Paul,  but  leaves  the  problem  of  its  authorship 
undetermined.  In  the  East,  as  late  as  Chrysostom  (who 
died  A.D.  407),  we  find  that  the  canon  of  the  Peshito 
is  still  accepted.  He  does  not  quote  the  four  omitted 
catholic  epistles,  and  makes  no  mention  of  the  Apoca- 
lypse. 

It  must  be  remarked  here,  that  the  early  writers,  in 
some  instances,  attribute  a  special  sanctity  and  authori¬ 
ty  to  certain  books  written  by  apostolic  Fathers.  These 
books  were  sometimes  read  in  churches.  They  are 
found,  in  several  cases,  connected  with  manuscripts  of 
the  New  Testament.  There  were  three  books  which  in 
particular  were  objects  of  special  veneration.  One  of 
these  was  the  Epistle  of  Clement  of  Rome  to  the  Corin¬ 
thians.  It  is  quoted  by  Irenseus,  Clement  of  Alexandria, 
and  by  Origen,  in  terms  which  imply  an  extraordinary 
estimate  of  its  value.  It  was  read  in  the  Church  of 
Corinth,  and  in  other  churches.  It  is  found,  but  placed 
after  the  Apocalypse,  in  the  Alexandrine  manuscript  of 
the  Greek  Bible.  The  Epistle  of  Barnabas,  an  epistle 
written  by  an  unknown  author,  near  the  beginning  of 
the  second  century,  who  delights  in  the  allegorical 
exegesis  of  the  Old  Testament,  enjoyed  a  high  repute, 
especially  at  Alexandria.  It  is  referred  to  by  Clement 
and  Origen  as  an  authoritative  writing,  its  author  being 
styled  by  Clement  “  the  Apostle  Barnabas ;  ”  and  it  is 
a  part  of  the  Sinaitic  manuscript.  The  Shepherd  of 
Hermas,  another  writing  of  the  second  century,  is 
quoted  as  “Scripture”  by  Irenseus:  it  is  placed  by  im 
plication  on  a  level  with  the  apostolic  writings.  It  is 
considered  by  Origen  to  be  inspired ;  although  he  states, 
that,  though  used  in  the  Church,  it  is  not  regarded  by 
all  as  sacred,  and  by  some  is  contemned.  It  was  rep¬ 
robated  ky  Tertullian,  who  declares  that  it  had  been 


434  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


adjudged  apocryphal  and  false  by  every  council,  ortho¬ 
dox  or  heretical.1  It  is  included,  however,  in  the  Sina- 
itic  manuscript  and  in  Latin  Bibles.  Notwithstanding 
the  anathema  of  Tertullian,  founded  on  certain  doctrinal 
objections,  the  Shepherd  maintained  its  popularity  for  a 
long  time  afterwards. 

These  three  books  won  this  peculiar  esteem,  partly 
fiom  the  nature  of  their  contents,  and  partly  from  the 
idea  —  which  was  true  in  regard  to  Clement’s  Epistle 
—  that  they  were  composed  by  pupils  of  the  apostles. 
Both  of  these  considerations  were  blended,  since  the 
Epistle  of  Polycarp  and  the  Epistles  of  Ignatius  were 
never  raised  to  this  level.  It  is  evident,  however,  that 
inspiration  was  not  always  conceived  to  be  strictly  con¬ 
fined  to  the  circle  of  the  apostles.  It  might  naturally 
be  thought  to  extend  to  the  helpers  who  stood  in  close 
connection  with  them.  It  deserves  to  be  remarked, 
that  neither  of  the  three  writings  itself  lays  claim  to 
apostolic  authority.  The  Epistle  of  Clement  is  couched 
in  a  strain  of  somewhat  imperative  admonition,  espe¬ 
cially  in  the  concluding  portion,  which  has  lately  been 
brought  to  light.  But  the  name  of  Clement  does  not 
appear.  It  is  a  letter  from  the  Church  of  Rome  to  the 
Church  of  Corinth.  There  is  no  design  to  exceed  the 
limits  of  paternal  exhortation.  In  the  Epistle  ascribed 
to  Barnabas  the  name  of  Barnabas  does  not  occur.  Its 
allegorical  treatment  of  the  Old  Testament,  as  was  be¬ 
fore  remarked,  would  commend  it  to  favor  in  the  com¬ 
munity  where  the  style  of  interpretation  introduced  by 
Philo  transmitted  itself  to  the  Christian  schools.  The 
Epistle  of  Hermas  was  written  during  the  time  of  Pius, 
bishop  of  Rome  from  A.D.  139  to  A.D.  154.  The 
author  was  conjectured  by  Origen  to  be  the  Hernias 

1  De  Pudicitia,  10  ;  cf.  20. 


THE  CANON  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 


485 


mentioned,  by  Paul  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans.  But 
it  was  the  character  of  the  book,  which  was  made  up 
of  visions,  that  chiefly  secured  for  it  so  high  esteem.  It 
has  been  compared,  as  to  the  pleasure  with  which  it 
was  read,  to  the  Pilgrim's  Progress ,  although  its  author 
was  intellectually  at  a  world-wide  remove  from  the 
genius  of  Bunyan. 

We  come  now  to  instructive  statements  of  Eusebius 
in  his  Church  History,  which  was  completed  in  A.D.  324 
or  A.D.  325.  In  addition  to  observations  in  different 
places  on  the  authorship  and  standing  of  scriptural 
books,  there  are  two  passages  in  which  he  speaks  more 
at  length  on  the  subject  of  the  canon.1  Pie  divides  the 
books  claiming  to  be  authoritative  into  three  classes. 
The  first,  the  Homologoumena,  comprises  the  univer¬ 
sally  acknowledged  books.  The  third  class,  called 
Spurious,  comprises  those  received  by  none ;  that  is, 
heretical  and  apocryphal  works,  such  as  the  Acts  of 
Paul,  the  Apocalypse  of  Peter,  etc.  The  second  class  — 
the  Antilegomena,  or  disputed  books  —  comprises  those 
which  were  received  by  some,  but  not  by  all.  Making 
up  this  second  class  from  the  various  passages  in  Euse¬ 
bius,  we  find  it  to  be  composed  of  the  Epistle  of  James, 
Jude,  Second  Peter,  Second  and  Third  John,  —  which 
he  tells  us  were  recognized  by  most,  —  also,  the  Epistle 
to  the  Plebrews,  and  the  Apocalypse.  Eusebius  himself 
thinks  that  Paul  was  the  author  of  a  Hebrew  original 
of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  which  some  other,  proba¬ 
bly  Clement  of  Rome,  rendered  into  Greek.  Respecting 
the  Apocalypse,  he  gives  no  decided  opinion,  llermas, 
in  one  place,  he  ranks  with  the  third  class,  —  the  spu¬ 
rious  writings:  elsewhere  he  states  that  his  book  is 
considered  by  some  most  necessary  to  such  as  need 

1  H.  E  iii.  25,  iii.  3,  24.  See  also  ii.  23,  iii.  16. 


436  TIIE  GROUNDS  OF  TIIEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


elementary  instruction  in  the  faith.  Towards  the  close 
of  the  fourth  century  Jerome  accepts  as  canonical  all  of 
the  books  in  our  New-Testament  canon.  The  diversity 
between  First  and  Second  Peter  he  would  explain  by 
the  supposition  that  the  apostle  employed  different  u  in¬ 
terpreters.”  But  Jerome  brings  out  the  difference  of 
opinion  that  existed  among  his  contemporaries.  Some 
held  that  James  did  not  write  the  Epistle  to  which  his 
name  is  attached.  Most  people  thought  that  Second 
Peter  was  not  the  work  of  the  apostle.  Many  attrib¬ 
uted  Second  and  Third  John  to  the  Ephesian  presby¬ 
ter  of  the  same  name.  Jude,  on  account  of  its  reference 
to  Enoch,  had,  for  the  most  part,  no  authority.  As  to 
Hebrews,  he  remarks,  that  among  the  Romans  it  is  not 
attributed  to  Paul.  Augustine  accepts  the  canon  of  the 
New  Testament  as  it  now  stands,  although  he  appears 
to  doubt  the  Pauline  authorship  of  Hebrews.  Finally 
at  the  third  synod  of  Carthage  (in  A.D.  39T),  where 
Augustine  was  present,  the  canon  of  the  New  Testa¬ 
ment  was  fixed  at  its  present  limits. 

Had  this  judgment  respecting  the  Antilegomena  been 
the  pure  result  of  critical  investigation,  it  might  be 
considered  conclusive.  But  even  Jerome,  and  still  more 
Augustine,  was  not  governed  so  much  by  critical 
arguments  as  by  a  disposition  to  acquiesce  in  what 
had  become  the  more  general  usage  of  the  Church. 
Through  the  middle  ages  the  debate  slumbered.  With 
the  revival  of  learning  it  was  unavoidable  that  it  should 
be  renewed.  The  question  about  the  seven  disputed 
books  was  revived.  Erasmus,  the  foremost  scholar  in 
the  later  period  of  the  Renaissance,  maintains  that  the 
Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  was  not  written  by  Paul.  He 
thinks  that  James  wrote  the  Epistle  which  bears  his 
name,  but  expresses  his  surprise,  that  on  these  problems 


THE  CANON  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 


437 


none  “  are  more  bigoted  in  their  assertions  than  those 
who  cannot  tell  in  what  language  it  was  originally 
written.”  “We  are  reckless,”  he  adds,  “in  proportion 
to  our  ignorance.”  1  The  Second  and  Third  Epistles  of 
John  he  ascribes  to  a  second  John,  —  John  the  Pres¬ 
byter,  the  supposed  contemporary  of  the  apostle  at 
Ephesus.  He  enters  fully  into  a  statement  of  reasons 
against  the  opinion  that  John  wrote  the  Apocalypse, — 
a  book  which  he  will  not  accept  save  on  the  authority 
of  the  Church.  Possibly  there  is  a  tinge  of  sarcasm  in 
this  last  utterance. 

Jerome  among  the  ancients,  and  Erasmus  among  the 
moderns,  stimulated  the  critical  studies  of  the  reform¬ 
ers.  Luther  expresses,  with  characteristic  freedom,  his 
opinions  on  the  disputed  books.  Pie  places  the  Epistle 
to  the  Hebrews,  James,  Jude,  and  the  Apocalypse,  at 
the  end  of  his  translation.  In  the  Preface  to  Hebrews 
he  says,  “  Up  to  this  point,  we  have  the  right  certain 
Capital  Books  of  the  New  Testament.  The  four  follow¬ 
ing,  however,  have  had  of  yore  a  different  standing 
(ansehen).”  The  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  was  written 
by  a  disciple  of  the  apostles,  an  excellent,  learned  man, 
whose  book  deserves  all  respect,  although  “  wood,  hay, 
or  straw  may  be  mingled  in  it;  and  it  must  not,  indeed, 
be  put  on  the  same  footing  with  the  apostolic  Epistles.” 
Jude,  he  says,  is  a  book  worthy  of  praise,  but  not  to  be 
ranked  with  the  Capital  Books,  which  lay  the  founda¬ 
tions  of  the  faith,  since  the  author  shows  that  he  is  a 
disciple  of  the  apostles,  and  appeals  to  sayings  and 
narrations  that  are  nowhere  found  in  Scripture.  Pie 
admires  the  Epistle  of  James,  and  holds  it  to  be  good ; 
but  as  it  teaches  the  law  rather  than  Christ,  and  gives 
righteousness  to  works,  it  is  no  apostle’s  writing.  u  It 

1  Nov.  Test.,  p.  625. 


438  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEIS1IC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

is  the  work  of  some  good,  pious  man,  who  perhaps 
caught  up  some  sayings  from  disciples  of  apostles,  and 
threw  them  on  paper.”  Compared  with  the  writings  of 
John,  Paul,  and  Peter,  it  is  an  epistle  of  straw  (eine 
rocht  stroherne  Epistel).  Of  the  Apocalypse,  Luther 
judged  still  more  unfavorably:  its  contents,  he  thought, 
dispioved  the  idea  that  an  apostle  wrote  it.1 

Calvin  speaks  of  the  First  Epistle  of  John,  and  takes 
no  notice  of  the  Second  and  Third  Epistles  of  John.  In 
like  manner,  he  leaves  untouched  the  Apocalypse.  The 
Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  he  accepts  as  an  apostolic  Epis¬ 
tle  ;  although  he  denies  that  Paul  wrote  it,  and  credits  it 
to  a  disciple  of  the  apostles.  Of  Second  Peter,  he  says, 
that,  since  the  “  majesty  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ  ”  is 
exhibited  in  it,  he  hesitates  to  reject  it  wholly,  and  is 
inclined  to  attribute  it  to  one  of  Peter’s  disciples. 
James  he  sees  no  reason  to  reject ;  and  Jude  he  will  not 
discard,  since  it  is  useful  to  read,  and  contains  in  it 
nothing  at  variance  with  the  purity  of  apostolic  doc¬ 
trine. 

It  is  common  to  criticise  the  opinions  of  Luther  on 
the  various  books  of  the  New  Testament  as  being  “  sub¬ 
jective”  in  their  character.  But,  if  this  be  a  ground  of 
censure,  Calvin  is  hardly  less  at  fault.  Tyndale  is  also 
in  the  same  condemnation  with  Luther.  In  his  first 
edition,  the  English  translator  presents  twenty-three 
books  which  he  numbers,  and  then  adds,  without  num¬ 
bers,  Hebrews,  James,  Jude,  and  the  Apocaylpse.  In 
a  late:*  edition  he  is  silent  upon  the  Apocalypse,  but 
judges  of  the  other  disputed  books  more  favorably  than 
Luther.  Yet,  while  not  pronouncing  on  the  authorship 
of  Hebrews,  he  declares  it  to  be  “holy,  godly,  and 

1  Tlie  passages  relative  to  tho  canon  aro  collected  in  Walch’s  ed.  oJ 
Luther’s  Writings,  Theil  xiv. 


THE  CANON  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 


439 


catholic,”  and  not  to  be  refused ;  and  says  of  the 
Epistle  of  James,  that  though  its  authorship  has  been 
doubted,  and  “though  it  lay  not  the  foundation  of  the 
faith  of  Christ,”  it  still  ought  to  be  received  as  Holy 
Scripture.1  Before  censuring  the  reformers  on  this 
score,  it  must  be  considered,  that,  in  judging  of  the 
authorship  of  books,  their  internal  character,  as  well 
as  the  external  testimonies,  must  be  taken  into  view. 
Moreover,  it  is  common  to  credit  the  early  Church  with 
the  possession  of  a  certain  tact  which  helped  to  distin¬ 
guish  apostolic  or  inspired  compositions  from  other 
works  on  a  humbler  level.  If  there  be  such  a  tact,  it 
can  hardly  be  confined  to  any  one  age  of  the  Church : 
it  may  belong  to  a  reformer  as  well  as  to  a  father.  Be¬ 
sides,  the  Protestant  theologians  and  the  Protestant 
creeds  made  much  of  the  “  testimonium  spiritus  sancti,” 
or  the  impression  which  the  Scriptures  themselves  make 
of  their  peculiar  elevation  and  divine  origin.  This  im¬ 
pression  is  the  feeling  or  judgment  of  the  individuals 
who  are  brought  into  contact  with  the  contents  of  the 
Bible  in  its  various  parts.  Luther  discriminated  be¬ 
tween  the  several  books  of  the  Bible :  some  were  more 
essential,  some  were  better,  than  others.  He  said  of 
John’s  Gospel  and  his  First  Epistle,  of  Paul’s  Epistles 
(especially  the  Romans,  Galatians,  and  Ephesians),  and 
the  First  Epistle  of  Peter,  that  they  “are  the  books 
which  show  thee  Christ,  and  teach  all  which  is  needful 
ami  blessed  for  thee  to  know,  even  if  thou  shouldst 
never  see  or  hear  any  other  book  or  any  other  doc¬ 
trine.”  From  the  four  evangelists,  and  the  principal 
undisputed  Epistles  of  Paul,  he  grasped  the  gospel  in 
its  essential  principles,  and  experienced  it  in  its  life- 
giving  efficacy.  From  the  point  of  view  thus  attained, 
1  The  passages  may  be  found  in  Westcott.  p.  497. 


440  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


he  weighed  the  value  of  all  other  writings  transmitted 
in  the  canon,  and,  without  neglecting  the  external  proofs, 
judged  of  their  authorship.  Their  internal  conformity 
or  disconformity  to  the  spirit  of  the  principal  books 
went  far  towards  determining  in  his  mind  the  question 
whether  or  not  they  emanated  from  apostles. 

The  method  of  Luther  is  parallel  to  the  ordir  Ary 
procedure  in  literary  criticism.  By  the  study  of  the 
main,  undisputed  Dialogues  of  Plato,  a  student  ac¬ 
quaints  himself  with  the  style,  spirit,  and  tenets  of  that 
author.  By  thus  entering  into  the  mind  of  Plato,  he 
gets  a  criterion  which  is  used  to  determine  his  judgment 
on  the  authenticity  of  Dialogues  which  are  thought  to 
be  open  to  question.  He  pronounces  them  to  be,  or  not 
to  be,  Platonic.  The  method- is  legitimate.  Yet  the 
criterion  is  fallible.  The  subjective  impression  may  be 
faulty.  Thus,  for  example,  Zeller  rejects  the  Laws,  in 
the  teeth  of  the  testimony  of  Aristotle.  A  wider  view 
of  the  philosophical  system,  or  a  more  just  estimate  of 
the  particular  book  in  question,  might  reverse  the  critic’s 
unfavorable  verdict. 

While  the  method  of  Luther’s  procedure  in  judging 
of  the  canonicity  of  books  is  not  so  exceptional,  or  so 
obnoxious,  as  it  has  sometimes  been  pronounced  to  be, 
it  is  another  thing  to  assent  to  all  of  his  applications 
of  it.  The  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  which  he  is  disposed 
to  refer  to  Apollos,  he  justly  appreciates.  Traces  of 
the  use  of  this  Epistle  are  found  in  Clement  of  Rome 
-  -  that  is,  before  the  end  of  the  first  century  —  and  in 
Justin  Martyr.  The  doubts  about  its  right  to  a  place 
in  the  canon  sprang  from  disbelief  in  its  Pauline  au¬ 
thorship.  But  if  it  proceeded,  as  the  preponderance  of 
critical  authority,  both  ancient  and  modern,  decides, 
from  some  man  of  as  high  consideration  as  Apollos, 


THE  CANON  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 


441 


whose  name  Paul  associates  with  his  own  as  one  of  the 
founders  of  Christianity  (an  origin  which  its  wide  ac* 
ceptance  at  an  early  day  'would  indicate) ;  if  its  author 
is  imbued  with  the  essential  principles  of  Paul;  if,  more¬ 
over,  in  elevation  of  style  and  of  thought,  it  is  raised 
above  all  the  sub-apostolic  literature,  as  the  common 
judgment  of  the  Church  has  recognized,  —  then,  equally 
with  the  writings  of  Luke  and  of  Mark,  it  is  entitled 
to  stand  among  the  documents  possessed  of  normative 
authority,  even  though  it  is  not  esteemed  precisely 
as  it  would  be,  had  an  apostle  written  it  with  his  own 
hand.  The  Epistle  of  James,  which  was  a  part  of  the 
old  Syriac  canon,  is  too  well  attested  to  be  rejected 
on  account  of  a  type  of  doctrine  somewhat  varying, 
though  not  discordant,  from  that  of  Paul;  especially 
since  its  doctrine  is  in  consonance  with  all  that  we 
know,  from  other  sources,  of  James,  the  presiding  elder 
at  Jerusalem.  The  Apocalypse  lacks  the  testimony  of 
the  Peshito  ;  but,  with  this  exception,  its  external  proofs 
are  remarkably  strong,  since  it  is  ascribed  to  John  by 
Irenseus  and  Justin  Martyr.  Its  rejection,  for  a  con¬ 
siderable  period,  in  the  Eastern  Church,  was  owing  to 
the  great  re-action  against  Chiliasm,  which  had  drawn 
support  from  it ;  although  Dionysius  of  Alexandria,  in 
the  middle  of  the  third  century,  who  imagined  that 
the  Presbyter  John  wrote  it,  brings  critical  objections  to 
its  apostolic  origin.  The  still  mooted  question  of  its 
authorship  must  be  determined  chiefly  by  the  internal 
evidence.  The  Second  and  Third  Epistles  of  John, 
being  addressed  to  individuals,  would  naturally  be  slow 
in  gaining  currency,  especially  as  the  name  of  the 
apostle  is  not  attached  to  them.  Yet,  as  Bleek  well 
remarks,  this  last  circumstance  is  an  argument  for  their 
genuineness,  for  which  this  moderate  and  candid  critic 


442  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTXC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 


contends.1  Mangold,  the  editor  of  Bleek,  attributes 
both  writings  to  the  author  of  the  First  Epistle  bearing 
the  name  of  John.2  That  the  apostle  wrote  this  First 
Epistle  there  is  no  sufficient  reason  to  question.  It 
must  be  remembered  of  the  catholic  or  general  epistles, 
as  a  class,  that,  not  being  addressed  to  a  particular 
church,  they  might  not  circulate  so  rapidly  and  readily 
as  the  other  class  of  epistles.  The  minor  Epistles  of 
John  were  not  much  contested.  Not  so,  however,  with 
Jude  and  Second  Peter.  It  is  obvious  that  one  of  the 
authors  of  these  writings  made  a  free  use  of  the  work 
of  the  other.  The  coincidences  of  thought,  as  well 
as  of  expression,  prove  this  beyond  all  doubt.  Which 
was  the  prior  ?  The  weight  of  critical  authority  is,  on 
the  whole,  decidedly  in  favor  of  the  priority  of  Jude. 
There  is  much  evidence  in  favor  of  its  genuineness. 
The  circumstance  that  two  apocryphal  books  are  re¬ 
ferred  to  —  the  book  of  Enoch,  and  the  Anabasis  of 
Moses  (a  work  known  to  Origen)  —  can  be  urged 
against  its  apostolic  authorship,  only  on  the  ground  of 
an  a  'priori  view  of  the  method  of  writing  which  an 
apostle  would  adopt,  or  of  a  theory  of  inspiration 
which  on  critical  grounds  cannot  be  assumed.  More 
doubt  has  rested  upon  Second  Peter  than  on  any  other 
book  in  the  New-Testament  canon.  The  scanty  patris¬ 
tic  evidence  in  favor  of  it,  and  the  extent  to  which  its 
claim  to  be  a  writing  of  Peter  was  denied  in  the  early 
centuries,  not  to  speak  of  more  recent  ages  —  to  say 
nothing  of  certain  internal  peculiarities  giving  rise  to 
suspicion,  —  incline  many  at  the  present  day,  who  are 
not  prone  to  literary  or  religious  scepticism,  to  disbe¬ 
lieve  in  the  Petrine  authorship.  Such  a  theory,  how¬ 
ever,  is  always  possible,  as  that  which  Calvin  and 
1  Bleik,  Einl.  in  d.  N.  T.,  p.  690.  2  Ibid.,  p.  694. 


HIE  CANON  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 


443 


others  have  suggested,  of  an  indirect  and  partial  con¬ 
nection  of  Peter  with  the  composition  of  it..  The  decis 
ion,  in  the  absence  of  conclusive  external  data,  turns 
upon  the  impression  made  by  the  contents  of  the  Epis¬ 
tle.  On  this  point  the  most  competent  Christian  schol¬ 
ars  have  thus  far  failed  to  agree. 

The  foregoing  remarks  connect  themselves  with  the 
classification  of  books  by  Eusebius.  The  inquiry  may 
be  started  whether  this  historian  was  sufficiently  well 
informed  to  make  it  certain  that  all  the  books  desig¬ 
nated  “  Homologoumena  ”  had  really  a  unanimous  ac¬ 
knowledgment.  The  possibility,  of  course,  exists,  that 
there  may  have  been  dissenters,  in  the  case  of  one  or 
more  of  these  books,  of  whom  Eusebius  had  no  knowl¬ 
edge.  Yet  his  means  of  information  were  very  un¬ 
usual.  It  was  a  matter  in  which  it  is  evident  that  he 
was  deeply  interested ;  and  there  is  nothing  from  any 
other  source  of  evidence  tending  to  correct  or  disprove 
his  statement. 

The  question,  which  is  the  proper  subject  of  this 
chapter,  can  be  shortly  answered.  If  any  of  the  books 
which  are  included  in  the  volume  called  u  The  New 
Testament  ”  could  be  proved  to  be  not  genuine,  they 
would  have  to  be  subtracted  from  that  body  of  docu¬ 
ments  from  which  we  derive  authentic  knowledge  of 
Christ  and  of  the  teaching  of  his  chosen  apostles.  If 
there  were  any  thing  in  such  doubtful  or  spurious  books 
which  is  peculiar  to  them,  and  is  not  found  in  the  books 
known  to  be  genuine,  so  much  would  have  to  be  de¬ 
ducted  from  the  sum  of  authoritative  doctrine.  It  is 
obvious  at  a  glance,  however,  that,  even  were  all  of  the 
books  enumerated  under  the  head  of  the  Antilegomena 
eliminated  from  the  canon,  the  loss,  however  consider¬ 
able,  would  not  obliterate  a  single  essential  fact,  or  a 


444  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


single  essential  doctrine,  of  the  Christian  system.  The 
example  of  such  a  believer  as  Martin  Luther  may  re¬ 
assure  timid  souls,  who  conceive  that  absolute  certainty 
respecting  the  authorship  of  all  the  books  in  the  canon 
is  an  article  of  a  standing  or  falling  church. 

In  these  observations  we  have  not  considered  the 
sceptical  propositions  of  a  modern  date,  such  as  the 
Tubingen  school  has  brought  forward  with  regard  to 
New-Testament  books  not  embraced  in  the  list  of 
Antilegomena.  Later  adherents  of  the  Tubingen  criti¬ 
cism  have,  as  concerns  several  of  the  apostolic  Epistles 
which  were  rejected  by  Baur,  dissented  from  him,  and 
affirmed  their  genuineness.  A s  far  as  the  main  books, 
from  which  the  historical  facts  and  the  substance  of 
apostolic  teaching  are  chiefly  learned,  are  concerned, 
the  vindication  of  their  genuineness,  in  case  they  are 
questioned,  is  a  part  of  the  evidences  of  Christianity. 
As  regards  other  books  not  included  in  this  category, 
the  preceding  remarks  respecting  the  Antilegomena  are 
applicable  to  them. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


THE  CONGRUITY  OF  THE  NATURAL  AND  PHYSICAL 
SCIENCES  WITH  THE  CHRISTIAN  FAITH. 

It  is  not  uncommon  at  present  to  bear  it  asserted 
or  insinuated  that  religion,  and  the  Christian  religion  in 
particular,  has  been  an  obstacle  in  the  way  of  the  prog¬ 
ress  of  natural  science,  including,  under  this  designa¬ 
tion,  the  various  departments  of  research  which  concern 
themselves  with  the  material  world.  Sometimes  Chris¬ 
tianity  is  spoken  of  as  an  enemy  still  formidable. 
Sometimes  the  paean  of  triumph  is  sounded  as  over 
a  slain  foe.  There  has  been,  if  we  are  to  credit  the 
writers  referred  to,  one  continuous  conflict  between  the 
religious  class  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  devotees  of 
scientific  knowledge  on  the  other.  The  students  of 
nature  have  had  to  press  their  way  forward  in  the  face 
of  the  sword  and  the  fagot.  Scientific  inquiry  has  been 
confronted  by  preconceived  opinions  concerning  its 
subject-matter,  having  their  basis  in  the  theological 
creed.  Dogmas  of  the  Church  have  warned  off  the  stu¬ 
dent  who  has  been  disposed  to  look  upon  the  heavens 
and  the  earth  with  an  open,  inquisitive  eye.  He 
has  been  enjoined  to  see  to  it  that  his  investigations 
conduct  him  to  certain  fore-ordained  conclusions.  Inde¬ 
pendent  judgment,  founded  on  an  unprejudiced  inspec¬ 
tion  of  the  phenomena,  in  the  light  of  inductive  logic, 
has  been  branded  as  profane.  The  naturalist  has  had 

to  pursue  his  toilsome  search  with  telescope  and  micro- 

MS 


446  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


scope  while  the  din  of  ecclesiastical  rebuke  has  tor¬ 
mented  his  ears.  The  questions  which  he  has  striven 
to  settle  by  observation  and  reasoning,  he  has  been  told 
are  already  determined,  once  for  all,  by  the  infallible 
authority  of  the  Bible.  What  is  the  flickering  torch  of 
the  feeble  intellect  of  man,  ever  stumbling  on  his  way, 
by  the  side  of  a  direct  illumination  from  the  Source  of 
all  light,  irradiating  the  mind  of  prophet  and  seer  who 
spake  as  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost?  The 
pulpit,  it  is  said,  is  always  ready  to  thunder  forth  anath¬ 
emas  upon  the  head  of  the  pioneer  who  opens  new 
vistas  of  truth  in  the  field  of  scientific  exploration.  If 
flames  and  torture  are  dispensed  with,  it  is  very  likely 
from  lack  of  power.  The  spirit  of  religious  intoler¬ 
ance  in  relation  to  the  sciences  of  nature  is  the  same  as 
of  old.  The  weapons  of  warfare  are  blunted,  but  the 
nature  of  the  struggle  is  unaltered.  Christianity  as¬ 
sumes  to  define  within  a  realm  which  science  claims  as 
its  own.  It  looks  on  science  as  a  trespasser  breaking 
down  sacred  landmarks.  Science,  on  the  contrary, 
within  its  province,  disowns  the  usurped  authority  of 
religion.  It  holds  the  definitions  of  the  creed  as  of  no 
account. 

This  will  be  recognized  as  a  not  unfair  paraphrase  of 
what  one  may  frequently  meet  with  in  the  books  and 
periodicals  of  the  day.  The  errors  and  distortions  min¬ 
gled  in  representations  of  this  sort,  I  shall  hope  to  point 
out.  At  the  beginning,  however,  it  is  well  to  confess 
that  the  general  allegation  is  not  without  plausibility. 
It  is  not  a  pure  fabrication.  There  are  facts  on  which 
it  is  founded,  whatever  mistake  and  whatever  exaggera¬ 
tion  are  carried  into  the  interpretation  of  them.  That 
in  the  name  of  religion,  in  past  times,  nearer  and  more 
remote,  the  legitimate  pursuits,  researches,  arguments, 


CONGRUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  447 


and  hypotheses  of  physical  inquirers,  have  been  frowned 
upon,  denounced,  and  proscribed,  is  undeniable.  That 
bodily  punishments  have  been  inflicted,  and,  in  other 
cases,  the  penalty  of  unpopularity  and  ostracism,  on  ac¬ 
count  of  opinions,  and  well  warranted  opinions,  in  natu¬ 
ral  science,  history  is  a  witness.  In  antiquity,  prior  to 
Christ,  science  was  not  without  its  persecuted  votaries. 
Socrates,  to  be  sure,  was  convicted,  and  put  to  death, 
not  for  heresies  in  physics  ;  for  the  study  of  physical 
phenomena  appeared  to  him  to  be  time  wasted,  and  an 
encroachment  on  a  province  that  might  better  be  left 
to  the  regulation  of  the  gods.  Aristotle  was  threatened 
with  persecution,  like  Socrates,  for  alleged  mischievous 
teaching  in  relation  distinctively  to  theology  and  ethics. 
But  Anaxagoras  was  arraigned  before  an  Athenian 
court  for  holding  impious  physical  doctrine,  such  as 
the  opinion  that  the  sun  is  an  incandescent  stone, 
larger  than  the  Peloponnesus ;  and  he  owed  his  deliver¬ 
ance  to  the  friendship  and  the  eloquence  of  Pericles. 
Passing  down  into  Christian  times,  with  which  we  are 
now  specially  concerned,  it  is  a  familiar  fact,  that,  in 
the  middle  ages,  the  students  who  early  interested 
themselves  in  chemical  experiments  —  whether  in  the 
hope  of  transmuting  the  baser  metals  into  gold,  or  foj 
some  better  reason  —  were  suspected  of  having  entered 
into  a  league  with  the  devil,  and  of  accomplishing  their 
experiments  with  the  aid  of  this  dark  confederate. 
Even  Albert  the  Great,  the  teacher  of  Aquinas,  did  not 
wholly  escape  this  dangerous  suspicion.  At  a  later 
day  Roger  Bacon  had  more  to  endure  on  the  ground 
of  analogous  imputations.  At  a  time  when  the  air 
was  thought  to  be  thronged  with  invisible  demons,  it 
was  natural  to  attribute  the  strange  effects  produced 
by  chemical  manifestation  to  a  preternatural  cause 


448  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


Turning  to  still  later  times,  we  are  at  once  reminded 
of  tlie  ecclesiastical  antagonism  to  astronomy,  and  of 
the  memorable  case  of  Galileo.  The  publication  of  the 
documents  connected  with  this  case  has  put  it  into 
the  power  of  every  candid  person,  who  will  give  the 
requisite  attention  to  them,  to  get  at  an  exact  knowl¬ 
edge  of  the  facts ;  and  it  has  put  it  out  of  the  power  of 
theological  partisans  to  conceal  or  distort  the  truth. 
It  is  true  that  much  is  still  said  of  the  Florentine  as¬ 
tronomer’s  imprudence  in  the  advocacy  of  his  doctrines, 
and  of  his  temerity  in  venturing  to  discuss  the  biblical 
relations  of  his  discoveries,  instead  of  leaving  the  inter¬ 
pretation  of  texts  to  the  authorized  mouthpieces  of  the 
Church.  Even  the  writer  of  the  article  on  Galileo,  in 
the  new  edition  of  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica ,  lays 
stress  on  the  “sanguine  ”  habit  of  the  philosopher,  and 
on  the  harm  which  it  brought  upon  him.  It  is  true  that 
Galileo’s  anxiety  to  spread  the  knowledge  of  his  won¬ 
derful  discoveries  led  him  into  covert  means  of  accom¬ 
plishing  his  end.  It  is  true  that  his  ethical  feeling,  like 
that  of  too  many  Italians  of  that  day,  made  prevarica¬ 
tion,  and,  when  driven  to  the  wall,  direct  falsehood, 
facile  to  him.  But  nothing  that  he  did  affords  any 
valid  excuse,  or  hardly  even  a  faint  palliation,  for  the 
enormous  wrong  of  the  organized,  unrelenting  endeav¬ 
or  to  suppress  the  publication  of  important  scientific 
truth,  and  for  the  more  terrible  sin  of  driving  an  old 
man  to  perjure  himself  by  abjuring  beliefs  which  his 
tempters  and  persecutors  well  knew  that  in  his  heart  he 
really  held.  The  lesson  which  ought  to  be  derived  for 
all  time  from  this  glaring  instance  of  bigotry  and  cruel 
intolerance  will  be  lost  if  the  real  character  of  it  is 
allowed  to  be  covered  up  by  sophistical  apologies.  It 
is  a  fact,  that  at  the  command  of  Pope  Paul  III.  in 


CONGRUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  449 


1616,  by  a  decree  of  the  Congregation  of  the  Index, 
the  Copernican  theory  was  declared  to  be  false,  and 
contrary  to  Scripture ;  that  in  1633  Galileo,  with  the 
approbation,  if  not  at  the  command,  of  Urban  VIII., 
was  condemned  to  abjure  the  doctrine  as  heretical, 
which,  seventeen  years  before,  had  been  pronounced 
false,  and  contradictory  to  Scripture.  This  abjuration, 
together  with  the  judgment  of  the  Inquisition,  at  the 
command  of  the  Pope  were  published  to  the  world. 
The  prohibition  of  the  books  which  teach  the  Coperni¬ 
can  doctrine  is  in  all  the  issues  of  the  Index  that  fol¬ 
lowed:  it  is  in  that  approved  expressly  by  a  bull  of 
Alexander  VII.  in  1664 ;  and  it  remained  in  the  Index 
until  its  partial  removal,  by  Benedict  XIV.,  in  1T5T. 
The  circulation  of  books  which  inculcate  the  Coperni¬ 
can  theory  was  not  expressly  authorized  until  it  was 
done  by  Pius  VII.,  in  1822.1  It  is  beyond  all  dispute 
that  a  Congregation,  acting  under  the  commission  of  the 
Pope,  condemned  as  false  a  truth  in  science ;  that,  by 
the  express  authority  of  the  Pope,  the  condemnation 
and  abjuration  of  this  truth  by  Galileo  were  ordered  to 
be  published  abroad  to  the  Church.2  This  comes  peril¬ 
ously  near  an  ex  cathedra  declaration  from  the  throne 
of  St.  Peter.  What  could  the  faithful  infer  from  such 
proceedings,  taken  under  the  express  authorization  of 
the  Pope,  but  that  the  Copernican  theory  is  false  and 
unscriptural  ?  This  is  a  point,  however,  with  which  we 
are  not  at  the  moment  specially  concerned.  It  is  easy 
to  understand  the  tremendous  shock  which  the  Coper¬ 
nican  theory  gave  to  existing  religious  views.  It  was 

1  See,  on  the  whole  subject,  the  proofs  given  by  Reusch,  Der  Process 
Galilei’s,  etc.  (Bonn,  1879).  Reusch’s  conclusions  are  on  pp.  450,  451, 
462  seq. 

2  See  Berti,  II  Proc.  original,  di  Galileo  Galilei,  etc.  (Roma,  1876) 

d.  121. 


450  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEIST1C  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


not  merely  that  particular  texts  —  like  the  command  of 
Joshua  to  the  sun  to  stand  still,  and  the  assertion  of  the 
Psalmist,  that  the  sun  rejoices  as  a  strong  man  to  run  a 
race  in  his  daily  path  across  the  sky  —  appeared  to  be 
contravened :  the  whole  cosmological  conception  of  Gen- 
esis,  besides  numerous  echoes  of  it  in  subsequent  pages 
of  Scripture,  seemed  to  be  subverted,  at  the  same  time 
that  established  ideas  respecting  the  future  state  of  ex¬ 
istence,  and  the  location  of  the  different  abodes  of  the 
good  and  the  evil,  —  ideas  sanctioned  by  patristic  and 
scholastic  authority,  —  were  shaken  to  the  foundation. 

Nothing  so  disgraceful  as  the  condemnation  of  old 
Galileo,  and  his  abjuration  compelled  under  menace  of 
the  torture,  can  be  laid  to  the  charge  of  Protestants, 
as  regards  the  treatment  accorded  to  the  devotees  of 
natural  science.  But  Protestantism  has  to  acknowl¬ 
edge  that  the  same  sort  of  mistake  has  been  made,  with 
circumstances  less  tragic  and  signal,  by  professed  advo¬ 
cates  of  a  larger  liberty  of  thought.  From  the  first 
rise  of  geology,  down  to  a  recent  day,  the  students 
of  this  branch  of  science  have  had  to  fight  their  way 
against  an  opposition  conducted  in  the  name  of  religion 
and  of  the  Bible.  They  were  charged  with  a  pre¬ 
sumptuous  attempt  to  contravene  the  plain  teaching  of 
revelation.  Cowper,  in  satirizing  the  dreams  and  delu¬ 
sions  which  get  hold  of  the  minds  of  men,  does  not 
omit  to  castigate  those  who 

“  Drill  and  bore 
The  solid  earth,  and  from  the  strata  there 
Extract  a  register,  by  which  we  learn 
That  He  who  made  it,  and  revealed  its  date 
To  Moses,  was  mistaken  in  its  age.” 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  amiable  poet  intends  to 
pour  scorn  upon  the  theory  that  the  globe  is  more  than 


CONQRUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  451 


about  six  thousand  3  ears  old,  —  a  theory  then  novel,  but 
now  universally  accepted.  The  geologists  were  flying 
in  the  face  of  Moses :  they  were  audaciously  setting  up 
their  pretended  record,  dug  out  of  the  earth,  against 
the  Creator’s  own  testimony,  given  in  writing.  What 
could  indicate  more  palpably  the  arrogance  of  reason? 
How  many  pulpits  thundered  forth  their  denunciation 
of  the  impious  fiction  of  the  geologists !  The  teachers 
of  the  new  geologic  cosmogony  were  pelted  with  the 
grave  rebukes  or  contemptuous  sneers  of  good  men  who 
considered  themselves  called  to  crush  the  adversaries  of 
a  tenet  long  established,  and  having  its  firm  warrant  in 
Scripture.  In  this  country  Professor  Moses  Stuart, 
who  fifty  years  ago  was  the  leading  biblical  scholar 
among  us,  —  a  man  of  brilliant  talents  and  of  extensive 
if  not  entirely  accurate  learning,  —  took  the  field  against 
the  conclusions  of  geology,  which  he  considered  at  war 
with  any  fair  interpretation  of  the  opening  page  of  the 
Bible.  The  late  Professor  Silliman  was  obliged  to  con¬ 
tend,  for  many  years,  with  sceptical  theologians,  on  whom 
his  arguments  made  no  more  impression  than  hailstones 
upon  a  rock.  Sometimes  it  was  said  that  the  fossils 
which  are  found  embedded  in  the  mountains,  or  buried 
on  the  seashore,  are  the  relics  of  the  great  and  devastat¬ 
ing  Noachian  deluge.  Not  unfrequently  it  was  deemed 
sufficient  to  declare  that  God  may  have  created  them 
just  as  they  are,  and  where  they  lie.  Hugh  Miller,  even 
at  the  late  day  when  he  wrote,  found  it  requisite  to 
argue  from  analogy,  —  from  the  inference  justified  in 
the  case  of  cemeteries  which  contain  human  bones,- — 
that  the  hypothesis  of  the  immediate  creation  of  fossils 
in  the  fossil  form  is  inconsistent  with  sound  logic,  and 
involves  a  disparagement  of  the  Creator’s  veracity. 
The  most  recent  instance  of  mistaken  religious  zeal  in 


452  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF 


a  blaze  against  tlie  naturalists  is  furnished  by  the 
advent  of  Darwinism.  The  recollection  is  still  fresh 
of  the  anathemas  which  the  appearance  of  DaiwhTs 
Origin  of  Species  and  Descent  of  Man  provoked.  How 
far  the  different  sorts  of  animals  and  other  organized 
beings  are  bound  together  by  a  genetic  connection  is 
still  an  open  question;  although  the  traditional  beliefs 
as  to  the  origin  of  these  various  divisions  may  be  said 
to  have  dropped,  for  the  most  part,  from  the  scientific 
creed.  Even  if  species  come  into  being  by  descent,  it 
is  problematical  whether  the  doctrine  of  natural  selec¬ 
tion  is  a  solvent  of  so  great  power  as  the  Darwinian 
form  of  the  evolution-hypothesis  has  maintained.  But 
the  bearings  of  Darwinism,  in  the  shape  in  which  its 
author  propounded  it,  upon  theism  and  Christian  be¬ 
lief,  are  now  well  understood.  It  has  been  abundantly 
shown  that  it  leaves  the  being  and  attributes  of  God,  as 
Christians  conceive  of  them,  untouched.  Speculations 
of  Darwin  pertaining  to  the  origin  of  the  mind  and  of 
the  moral  faculty  may  wear  a  threatening  look.  But 
these  are  a  subordinate  part  of  the  Darwinian  discus¬ 
sion  ;  and  it  should  not  be  lightly  assumed  that  even 
these,  of  necessity,  clash  with  the  Christian  idea  of  man 
as  a  spiritual  and  responsible  creature.  A  preacher  of 
so  high  a  type  of  ecclesiasticism,  and  of  an  orthodoxy  so 
stainless,  as  Dean  Liddell,  tells  us,  in  a  sermon  preached 
since  Darwin  was  entombed,  that  the  theory  which  has 
made  his  name  famous  carries  in  it  no  antagonism  to 
the  creed  of  a  Christian.  The  conflict  about  which 
there  has  been  so  great  a  noise  is  pronounced  to  be 
unreal.  If  this  be  so,  then  the  guns  of  a  myriad  pulpits 
have  been  turned  upon  a  man  of  straw. 

The  causes  of  the  attitude  of  intolerance  which  has 
frequently  been  taken  by  religious  men  towards  new 


CONGKUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  453 

opinions  in  natural  science  are  multiple.  There  is, 
first,  the  customary  impatience  of  new  truth,  or  of  new 
doctrine  which  stands  in  opposition  to  cherished  ideas, 
—  ideas  that  have  long  had  a  quiet  lodgement  in  the 
mind.  This  species  of  conservatism  is  far  from  being 
peculiar  to  theologians  or  to  the  religious  class :  it  be¬ 
longs  to  other  classes  of  human  beings  as  well,  and  ia 
manifested  equally  in  connection  with  other  beliefs. 
Innovators  in  politics,  or  in  these  very  sciences  which 
have  to  do  with  the  material  world,  are  very  apt  to  be 
confronted  with  resistance  —  often  with  stubborn  and 
angry  resistance  —  from  people  engaged  in  the  same 
pursuits.  Few  ministers  expressed  a  more  unsparing 
antipathy  to  Darwinism  than  Agassiz,  the  apostle  of  a 
different  zoological  system.  The  path  which  scientific 
discoverers  have  to  tread,  apart  from  the  religious  and 
ecclesiastical  jealousies  which  they  are  liable  to  awaken, 
is  not  apt  to  be  a  smooth  one.  The  odium  theologicum 
is  only  one  specific  form  of  a  more  generic  odium  which 
vents  itself  in  learned  scientific  bodies  and  in  the  con¬ 
troversial  papers  of  rival  schools  of  savans.  It  won  d 
seem  as  if  men  come  at  length  to  look  on  their  estab¬ 
lished  opinions  as  a  piece  of  property,  and  upon  all 
who  seem  disposed  to  deprive  them  of  this  agreeable 
possession  as  thieves  and  robbers.  Fanaticism  may  be 
kindled  in  behalf  of  any  cause  or  creed  with  which 
personal  feeling  has  become  associated,  or  with  which 
intellectual  pride  has  irrevocably  become  involved. 
Hence  every  important  revolution  in  scientific  opinion 
has  succeeded,  not  without  a  conflict  with  the  adherents 
of  the  traditional  view,  —  an  internecine  war  among 
the  cultivators  of  science  themselves. 

Then,  secondly,  religious  faith,  as  it  exists  in  almost 
every  mind,  is  habitually  associated  with  beliefs  errone- 


454  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIO  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


ously  supposed  to  be  implicated  in  it.  Beyond  the 
truth  itself  on  which  a  man  really  lives,  there  is  a  mass 
of  connected  belief,  which  not  one  out  of  a  hundred, 
to  speak  moderately,  either  attempts  to  dissever  from  it, 
or  imagines  it  possible  to  dissever.  To  disconnect  this 
accretion  of  secondary  beliefs,  be  they  well  founded  or 
ill  founded,  from  that  which  is  vital,  it  is  tacitly  taken 
for  granted,  is  out  of  the  question.  That  which  would 
remain  after  the  amputation  it  is  silently  assumed 
would  bleed  to  death.  It  is  only  the  few  disciplined 
and  rigorously  logical  minds  who  approximate  closely 
to  a  perception  of  what  is  and  what  is  not  vital  to  a 
doctrine  or  a  system.  Such  a  discrimination  is  seldom 
made  with  any  high  degree  of  accuracy.  Hence  one 
may  think  that  his  life  is  threatened  when  the  surgeon’s 
knife  is  lopping  off  an  excrescence,  or  is  removing  a 
member  the  loss  of  which  leaves  the  body  with  undi¬ 
minished  or  increased  vigor.  Religious  beliefs,  in  the 
average  mind,  are  so  interwoven  With  one  another,  as 
the  mere  effect  of  association,  where  there  may  be  no 
necessary  bond  of  union,  that,  where  one  of  them  is 
assailed,  the  whole  are  thought  to  be  in  danger.  Time 
was,  when  a  belief  in  witchcraft  was  held  by  many  to 
be  an  articulus  stantis  et  cadentis  ecclesice .  Even  John 
Wesley  expresses  this  opinion,  or  something  equivalent. 
It  was  a  belief  that  had  existed  so  long,  it  had  been 
adopted  and  practised  on  by  so  many  of  the  bad  and 
good,  it  was  judged  to  be  so  recognized  in  the  Scrip¬ 
tures,  it  entered  so  intimately  into  the  accepted  mode 
of  conceiving  of  supernatural  agents,  that  the  loss  of 
it  out  of  the  faith  of  a  Christian  was  felt  to  be  like  a 
displacement  of  a  stone  from  the  arch :  it  would  lead  to 
the  downfall  of  the  whole  structure.  The  old  Greeks 
held  that  the  stars  were  severally  the  abode  of  deifie 


CONGRUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  455 

beings:  they  were  animated  and  moved  by  intelligences. 
Plato  and  Aristotle  were  not  delivered  from  this  way  of 
thinking.  When  a  man  like  Anaxagoras  said  that  the 
sun  was  a  stone,  the  entire  theological  edifice  was  felt 
to  be  menaced  with  overthrow.  Men  did  not  at  once 
discern  that  atheism  did  not  follow.  They  did  not  see 
that  a  belief  either  in  one  God,  or  in  gods  many  or 
lords  many,  might  still  subsist,  and  subsist  just  as  well, 
wiien  the  traditional  tenet  which  personified  the  stars 
had  been  relinquished.  It  is  a  matter  of  daily  expe¬ 
rience  to  witness  a  vociferous  opposition  to  the  intro¬ 
duction  of  some  new  mode  of  conceiving  of  a  religious 
truth,  or  of  defending  it,  where  the  motive  of  the  im- 
bittered  outcry  is  a  misconception  of  the  effect  of  the 
opinion  in  question  upon  the  substance  of  religious 
belief.  The  disposition  “  to  multiply  essentials  ”  good 
Richard  Baxter  considered  the  bane  of  the  Church, 
the  prolific  source  of  intolerance  and  division.  The 
tendency  to  identify  accident  with  substance,  the  fail¬ 
ure  to  discern  the  core  of  a  truth  from  its  integuments, 
is  at  the  root  of  much  of  the  rash  and  unreasoning  and 
vehement  resistance  that  has  been  offered  in  past  times 
to  the  advances  of  natural  science. 

In  adverting  to  the  occasions  of  conflict  between  per¬ 
sons  specially  interested  in  religious  truth,  and  students 
of  natural  science,  there  is  one  other  observation  to  bo 
made,  to  which  it  is  well  for  theologians  to  give  heed. 
The  ground  is  often  practically  taken,  and  sometimes 
avowedly,  taht  the  views  relative  to  the  teaching  of 
Scripture  respecting  the  material  world,  both  as  to  its 
meaning  and  authority,  which  have  come  down  to  us, 
we  ought  to  cling  to  until  we  are  forced  to  abandon 
them.  The  maxim  is  to  part  with  the  traditional  opin¬ 
ions  on  this  topic  only  when  the  concession  is  extorted 


456  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


by  evidence  no  longer  to  be  withstood.  Never  yield  an 
inch  of  ground  until  it  is  found  impossible  to  hold  it. 
This  way  of  viewing  the  subject  is  wholly  unscientific, 
and  unworthy  of  theology,  if  theology  would  keep  its 
place  as  a  science.  It  rests  on  a  false  assumption  re¬ 
specting  the  rightful  relation  of  religion  to  the  studies 
of  nature.  It  is  mischievous,  it  is  hurtful  to  the  cause 
of  religion.  It  is  in  fact,  in  its  proper  tendency,  suici¬ 
dal.  It  is  unscientific,  in  the  first  place.  If  the  prog¬ 
ress  of  natural  science  has  taught  in  repeated  instances, 
and  taught  impressively,  that  the  traditional  views 
taken  of  the  Scriptures  contain  error,  the  aim  should 
be  to  eliminate  that  error,  and  to  do  it,  if  possible,  forth¬ 
with,  and  not  wait  to  receive  blow  after  blow.  Some 
new  canon  of  interpretation  should  be  found  which 
places  the  reader  of  the  Bible  above  the  reach  of  these 
rude  disturbances  of  his  belief.  If  this  is  found  im¬ 
practicable,  if  it  is  found  that  fair  interpretation,  with¬ 
out  any  such  strain  as  offends  the  critical  sense  and  the 
ethical  sense  as  well,  fails  to  set  the  scriptural  ex¬ 
pressions  in  harmony  with  the  ascertained  results  of 
inductive  science,  then  let  the  inspiration-dogma  be 
revised.  Let  the  theory  relative  to  the  authority  of 
Scripture  be  formulated  in  accordance  with  the  facts. 
Our  position  is,  that  it  is  unworthy  of  the  Church  to 
stand  idle  and  passive,  but  prepared  to  give  up  one 
point  after  another  as  it  may  find  itself  obliged  to  do 
so.  This  is  virtually  the  position  which  many  would 
assume.  They  stand  waiting  for  some  new  demand 
from  natural  science,  —  stand  shivering,  perhaps,  lest 
they  should  be  stripped  of  another  inherited  view  re¬ 
specting  the  wTorld  and  the  way  in  which  it  was  made. 
The  proper  course  for  the  thinkers  of  the  Church  to 
take  is  to  anticipate  the  demands  of  natural  science, 


CONGIIUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  457 

and,  as  far  as  the  light  t  aey  possess  will  enable  them, 
take  up  a  position  as  to  the  teaching  of  Scripture  and 
the  substance  of  the  faith  from  which  they  cannot  be 
dislodged.  No  course  could  be  better  adapted  to  excite 
a  general  distrust  of  Scripture  than  that  of  making  a 
stand  at  one  point  after  another,  only  to  beat  a  retreat 
at  the  first  regular  onset  of  the  assailant.  The  policy 
which  we  here  condemn  rests  upon  the  assumption  that 
natural  science  is  to  be  looked  upon  as  an  advenary 
bent  upon  conquest,  instead  of  a  branch  of  human 
knowledge  to  be  hailed  as  an  ally  and  a  friend.  The 
progress  of  physical  discovery  has  gone  far  enough  to 
render  it  practicable  for  Christian  theologians,  if  they 
will  clear  their  minds  of  bias,  either  on  the  side  of 
tradition  or  of  innovation,  to  compare  the  utterances 
of  the  Bible  with  the  settled  doctrines  of  science,  and 
then  determine  what  modification  of  formulas  and  in¬ 
terpretations  is  required.  The  seventeenth  century 
was  far  less  favorably  situated  than  the  nineteenth  as 
regards  the  discrimination  between  the  human  and  the 
divine  factors  which  conspire  in  the  production  of  the 
Scriptures.  The  proper  authority  of  the  Bible,  and 
the  bounds  of  that  authority,  it  is  now  more  practicable 
to  de^ne,  since  the  phenomena  of  Scripture  are  more 
thoroughly  understood,  and  other  branches  of  knowl¬ 
edge  which  require  to  be  consulted  as  aids  in  the 
investigation  have  made  an  immense  advance. 

Having  made  these  preliminary  remarks  on  the 
causes  of  complaint  which  students  of  nature  have  had 
in  times  distant  and  recent,  we  proceed  to  affirm,  that 
the  general  allegation  against  religion  and  Christianity, 
of  having  proved  a  hinderance  to  the  advancement  of 
scientific  knowledge,  is  without  any  just  foundation. 
The  school  of  Buckle,  whose  superficial  and  pretentious 


458  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF, 

History  of  Civilization  abounds  in  manifestations  c : 
anti-Christian  prejudice,  is  fond  of  representing  religion 
as  in  perpetual  “conflict”  with  science.  In  the  patris¬ 
tic  age,  in  the  history  of  ancient  Christianity,  these 
writers  can  find  little  that  can  help  them  to  bolster  up 
i heir  fictitious  charge.  To  understand  the  middle  ages, 
one  must  take  into  view  the  domination  of  Aristotle, 
which,  partly  for  good  and  partly  for  evil,  established 
itself  in  the  thirteenth  century  in  the  educated  class. 
At  first  Aristotle  was  resisted,  especially  when  the 
Arabic  Pantheism  linked  itself  to  his  teaching;  but 
finally  he  came  to  be  considered  as  a  chosen  man  who 
had  exhausted  the  possibilities  of  natural  reason.  Con¬ 
sidering  what  the  character  of  civilization  was  in  that 
era,  the  influence  of  the  Stagirite  was  natural,  and  not 
without  a  great  intellectual  benefit.  With  the  Refor¬ 
mation,  his  sceptre  was  broken.  The  way  was  opened 
by  this  emancipation  for  the  progress  of  physical  and 
natural  science.  The  epochs  in  this  great  emancipation 
are  marked  by  the  advent  of  the  voyagers  Columbus 
and  Da  Gama,  by  the  discoveries  of  Copernicus  and 
Yesalius,  by  the  revolution  effected  by  Newton,  by  the 
extension  of  astronomical  science  through  the  elder 
Herschel,  and  by  the  final  triumph  of  the  method  of 
experimental  and  inductive  research  which  owed  much 
to  the  influence  of  Bacon,  but  the  glory  of  which  must 
be  shared  by  a  multitude  of  explorers.  To  figure  this 
progress  of  culture,  through  Aristotle’s  reign  and  since 
his  downfall,  as  a  “  conflict  with  religion,”  is  a  proceed¬ 
ing  as  shallow  as  it  is  calumnious.1 

The  late  Dr.  John  W.  Draper  mpv  be  taken  as  an 

1  Zockler’s  work,  which  I  had  not  examined  until  thio  chapter  was 
auostly  written,  Gesch.  d.  Beziehungen  d.  Theol.  u.  Naturwissenscbaft 
(1877),  contains  interesting  matter  on  the  points  here  considered. 


C0NGRU1TY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  459 


example  of  a  class  of  authors  who  have  labored  to  dis* 
seminate  the  impression  which  is  here  contradicted.  A 
man  of  marked  ability,  and  justly  eminent  in  certain 
provinces  of  scientific  knowledge,  he  has,  nevertheless, 
in  his  work  on  The  Intellectual  Development  of  Europe, 
and  in  a  smaller  work  on  The  Conflict  of  Religion  and 
Science ,  given  currency  to  what  we  consider  a  false 
and  injurious  view  of  the  proper  tendency  and  actual 
influence  of  Christianity.  It  is  true  that  Dr.  Drape  - 
is  much  more  lenient  in  his  judgment  of  Protestantism 
than  of  Roman  Catholicism.  But  his  thesis  is,  that  “  a 
divine  revelation  must  necessarily  be  intolerant  of  con¬ 
tradiction  ;  it  must  repudiate  all  improvement  on  itself, 
and  view  with  disdain  that  arising  from  the  progressive 
intellectual  development  of  man.”1  His  representation 
is,  that  there  are  always  two  parties,  —  science  on  the 
one  side,  and  religious  faith  on  the  other.  The  drift 
of  his  teaching  is  to  the  effect  that  the  great  mistake, 
—  the  “great  neglect  of  duty,”  —  on  the  part  of  the 
heathen  sages  of  antiquity,  was  in  failing  to  make  pro¬ 
vision  for  the  propagation  of  their  saving  doctrines ; 
the  design  being,  apparently,  to  suggest  that  the  world 
would  have  been  delivered  from  the  blinding  and  nar¬ 
rowing  influence  of  that  system  of  religious  belief  which 
actually  obtained  sway  in  Europe.2  There  is  a  certain 
naivetS  in  this*  lament;  as  if  the  failure  to  engage  in 
active  propagandism  did  not  grow  out  of  the  essentia] 
character  of  the  systems  which  the  much  lauded  sages 
and  philosophers  cherished.  This  is  one  point  in  Dr. 
Draper’s  view  of  history.  Another  ground  of  lamen¬ 
tation  is  found  in  the  failure  of  Arabic  culture  and 
philosophy  to  become  dominant.  Coupled  with  this 
sentiment  is  an  exalted  view  of  the  scientific  merit 
i  Hiat.  of  the  Conflict  of  Religion  and  Science,  p.  vi.  2  Ibid.,  p.  vii 


460  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


of  the  Saracenic  philosophers  in  comparison  with  the 
Christian  culture  and  philosophy  which  displaced  them. 
The  ideal  system  appears  to  be  found  in  the  pantheistic 
speculations  of  Averroes.  The  indebtedness  of  Europe 
to  Arabic  science  is  depicted  in  warm  colors. 

All  this  involves  a  considerable  amount  of  error  and 
exaggeration.  It  is  conceded  that  Christian  writers 
have  been  sometimes  niggardly  in  awarding  credit  to 
the  work  done  by  Mohammedan  scholars  in  the  earlier 
portion  of  the  middle  ages.  Religious  prejudice  has 
had  its  effect  in  lowering  unduly  the  estimate  which 
should  be  put  upon  Arabic  learning,  and  the  services 
rendered  by  it  in  the  education  of  Europe.  The  univer¬ 
sities  of  Bagdad  and  Damascus,  of  Cordova  and  Seville, 
were  lights  in  a  dark  age.  The  knowledge  gained  by 
inquisitive  ecclesiastics  from  the  North  in  the  Moorish 
schools  of  Spain  communicated  the  impulse  out  of 
which  scholasticism  sprang  into  being.  The  school¬ 
men  owed  their  first  knowledge  of  Aristotle  to  Latin 
translations  from  Arabic  versions  of  his  writings.  In 
several  of  the  sciences,  as  medicine  and  astronomy,  the 
Arabs  gained  a  knowledge  above  that  of  their  contem¬ 
poraries,  and  even  contributed,  in  no  inconsiderable 
measure,  to  the  advancement  of  these  branches.  Lau¬ 
dation  of  the  Arabs  cannot  justly  go  much  beyond  this 
point.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  to  be  remembered  that 
the  Arabians  derived  their  science  from  the  Greeks. 
Not.  only  their  methods,  but  the  greater  portion  of  their 
stock  of  knowledge,  were  acquired  from  the  ancient 
writers,  whom  they  studied  through  the  medium  of 
translations.  In  the  second  place,  it  is  not  to  be  for¬ 
gotten  that  the  Arabs  were  indebted  to  Christians  for 
their  introduction  to,  and  knowledge  of,  Greek  authors. 
Versions  of  Aristotle  and  of  other  authors  were  made 


CONGRUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  461 

into  Arabic  by  Syrian  Christians.  Nestorians  were  the 
tutors  and  guides  of  the  Arabs.  Alfarabi  and  Avicenna 
were  pupils  of  Syrian  and  Christian  physicians.  In 
the  ninth  century,  Hassein  Ibn  Ishak  was  at  the  head  of 
a  school  of  interpreters  at  Bagdad,  by  whom  the  Arabs 
were  furnished  with  the  treatises  of  the  Stagirite  and 
of  his  ancient  commentators.1  Thirdly,  the  additions 
which  the  Arabs  made  to  the  stock  of  learning  were 
comparatively  small.  We  say  “comparatively.”  In 
comparison  with  what  they  learned  from  the  Greeks, 
their  contributions  were  small ;  but,  especially  in  com¬ 
parison  with  the  scientific  achievements  of  Christian 
students  of  later  days,  the  discoveries  of  the  Mohamme¬ 
dans  were  insignificant.  Whewell,  in  his  History  of  the 
Inductive  Sciences ,  has  brought  out  very  distinctly  the 
fact,  that  it  was  not  until  scientific  discovery  and  ex¬ 
periment  were  taken  up  under  Christian  auspices  and 
by  Christian  explorers,  that  the  astonishing  advances 
were  made  which  give  character  to  modern  science.  In 
astronomy,  the  favorite  study  of  the  Arabs,  and  one  in 
which  they  really  did  much,  what  is  all  their  original 
teaching  when  set  by  the  side  of  the  work  done  by 
Copernicus,  Galileo,  Tycho  Brahe,  Kepler,  and  New¬ 
ton  ?  The  methods,  the  instruments,  the  observations, 
the  brilliant  inductions,  which  have  revolutionized  our 
conceptions  of  the  sidereal  universe,  are  not  due  to 
the  Arabs.  They  are  owing  to  the  genius  of  the  Chris¬ 
tian  masters  whose  names  have  just  been  given,  and 
to  others  who  have  trod  in  their  path.  It  is  in  the 
atmosphere  of  Christianity,  amid  the  influences  which 
Christian  civilization  has  originated,  in  the  bosom  of 
Christian  society,  that  the  amazing  progress  of  natural 
and  physical  science  in  all  of  its  departments  has  taken 

1  See  Ueberwe^’a  Hist,  of  Philosophy,  i.  p.  410  eeq. 


162  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

^ace.  It  is  not  that  praise  of  the  Arabs  for  what  they 
learned  and  taught  is  begrudged:  it  is  only  that  the 
praise  bestowed  on  them  is  exaggerated,  and  that  the 
dea  of  some  stupendous  work  which  they  would  have 
lone  if  they  had  been  let  alone,  is  illusive  and  vis- 
'onary. 

The  foregoing  remarks  are  to  show  that  the  accusa* 
don  of  having  been,  on  the  whole,  a  barrier  in  the  way 
>f  science,  which  is  brought  against  Christian  society 
dt  large,  is  founded  on  a  misjudgment  respecting  the 
factors  concerned  in  the  development  of  modern  civili¬ 
zation  and  culture.  A  kindred  fallacy  inhering  in  this 
allegation  is  in  the  identifying  of  the  acts  of  ecclesiastical 
rulers  with  the  sentiments  and  inclinations  of  the  body 
of  Christian  people.  The  proceedings  of  the  hierarchy 
of  the  Latin  Church  in  particular  cases  are  not  to  be 
confounded  with  the  spontaneous  voice  of  Christian 
society  as  a  whole.  The  multitude  of  communicants, 
even  in  that  body,  might  not  concern  themselves  in 
these  measures  of  persecution.  We  may  take  as  an 
illustration  the  case  of  Galileo.  How  much  did  even 
Catholics  generally  know  of  wrhat  the  Inquisition  was 
doing  in  this  affair  ?  The  body  of  the  laity  were  not 
consulted.  There  was  no  room  for  a  free  expression  of 
their  sympathy  in  one  direction  or  the  other.  For  ages 
the  Christian  Church  was  dominated  in  the  West  by 
the  Latin  hierarchy.  To  hold  the  Church  at  all  times, 
much  more  Christianity  itself,  responsible  for  every 
deed  of  cruelty  and  fanaticism  which  the  rulers  of  the 
Church  committed,  is  a  manifest  injustice.  Yet  it  is  the 
fashion  of  censorious  writers  who  would  fain  exhibit 
religion  as  hostile  to  science,  to  rake  together  from  the 
annals  of  the  past  all  the  instances  of  priestly  intoler¬ 
ance  of  this  nature,  and  to  lay  them  in  a  lump  at  the 
door  of  the  Christian  Church. 


CONGRUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  463 

A  fallacy  still  more  flagrant,  of  which  the  class  of 
writers  to  whom  we  are  referring  are  guilty,  is  deserv¬ 
ing  of  special  attention.  The  exposure  of  it  goes  far 
to  nullify  the  popular  assertions  with  regard  to  the 
opposition,  in  past  days,  of  religion  to  natural  science. 
These  writers  unconsciously  overlook  the  fact,  that,  for 
the  most  part,  the  pioneers  of  scientific  discovery  who 
have  had  to  endure  persecution  for  broaching  novel 
views  upon  the  constitution  and  origin  of  nature  have 
been  themselves  Christians.  It  has  not  been  a  war 
of  disbelievers  and  sceptics,  on  the  one  side,  who  have 
been  obliged  to  suffer  at  the  hands  of  believers  in 
Christianity  for  teaching  scientific  truth.  It  has  com¬ 
monly  been  a  contest  of  Christian  against  Christian. 
Where  there  has  been  a  combat  of  this  sort,  it  has  been 
an  intestine  struggle.  To  represent  by  implication  that 
in  one  camp  have  been  found  atheists  and  infidels,  eager 
and  successful  in  exploring  the  secrets  of  nature,  while 
in  the  other  have  been  collected  the  host  of  Christian 
disciples,  their  persecutors,  is  utterly  false  and  mislead¬ 
ing.  Where  the  war  has  existed,  it  has  been  a  war  of 
Greek  against  Greek.  Christian  men,  taught  in  Chris¬ 
tian  schools,  or  stimulated  intellectually  by  the  aggre¬ 
gate  of  influences  which  Christianity  has  in  the  process 
of  time,  to  a  great  degree,  called  into  being,  make  some 
new  discovery  in  science,  which  clashes  with  previous 
opinions,  and  strikes  many  as  involving  the  rejection 
of  some  article  of  Christian  belief.  Debate  ensues. 
Intemperate  defenders  of  the  received  opinion  denounce 
those  who  would  overthrow  it.  Intolerant  men,  if  they 
have  the  power,  instigated  by  passion,  and  probably 
thinking  that  they  are  doing  God  service,  resort  to 
force  for  the  purpose  of  suppressing  the  obnoxious 
doctrine,  and  crushing  its  advocates.  These  advocates, 


464  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


denying  that  Christianity  is  impugned  by  their  new 
scientific  creed,  stand,  with  more  or  less  constancy,  foi 
the  defence  of  it.  In  some  cases  they  are  imprisoned: 
in  other  cases  they  are  driven  into  exile,  or  put  to 
death.  Some  become  martyrs  to  science  :  some  weaklj 
renounce  their  convictions.  This,  in  the  main,  is  the 
story  of  persecution  as  directed  against  promoters  el 
natural  and  physical  science.  It  has  been,  with  some 
exceptions,  the  melancholy  tale  of  Christians  so  far 
misled  by  passion,  or  by  bad  logic,  or  by  false  notions 
of  duty,  as  to  interfere  with  the  proper  liberty  of 
fellow-Christians  who  are  blessed  with  more  light. 

Let  us  glance  at  some  of  the  individuals  who  have 
been  named  among  the  votaries  of  science  that  have 
earned  reproach  for  supposed  religious  aberrations. 
Albertus  Magnus  should  hardly  have  a  place  among 
them ;  yet  his  name  figures  often  among  those  who  are 
said  to  have  suffered,  on  account  of  his  interest  in 
alchemy.  Some  of  his  ignorant  contemporaries,  it  is 
true,  thought  him  a  magician.  But  this  great  light  of 
the  Dominican  order,  and  teacher  of  Thomas  Aquinas, 
was  as  far  as  possible  from  free-thinking  in  religion. 
It  was  his  fame  in  the  Church  that  gave  him  the  title 
of  “the  Great.”  He  was  a  Christian  thinker,  justly 
held  in  honor  in  his  own  generation,  and  somewhat 
in  advance  of  his  times  in  the  interest  which  lie  took  in 
natural  science.  Who  was  Roger  Bacon,  who  is  so 
often  pointed  out  as  one  of  the  victims  of  religious 
bigotry?  His  eminence,  when  compared  with  the  men 
of  his  time,  there  may  be  a  tendency  at  present  to  exag¬ 
gerate  ;  but  he  was  unquestionably  on  a  level  with  the 
greatest  minds  of  the  thirteenth  century,  so  prolific  in 
examples  of  intellectual  power.  He  was  persecuted  by 
reason  of  the  scientific  spirit  which  he  manifested  and 


CONGRUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  465 

exemplified  in  his  researches.  His  lectures  at  Oxford 
were  interdicted  by  Bonaventura,  the  general  of  the 
Franciscan  order  of  which  he  was  a  member.  He  lived 
at  Paris,  under  a  sort  of  ecclesiastical  surveillance,  for 
ten  years.  Later  his  books  were  condemned,  and  he 
was  in  prison  for  fourteen  years.  This  is  one  chapter 
of  the  story.  On  the  other  hand,  he  was  himself  a 
sincere  Christian  believer,  —  as  firm  a  believer  as  were 
the  ecclesiastics  who  imposed  penalties  on  him  for  his 
teaching.  This  is  not  all.  Among  his  numerous  sup¬ 
porters  was  that  liberal-minded  man,  Robert  Grosse¬ 
teste,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Lincoln.  Moreover,  it  was 
Guy  de  Foulques,  after  his  election  to  the  Papacy  under 
the  name  of  Clement  IV.,  who  called  upon  him  to 
write  out  a  treatise  on  the  sciences,  which,  when  a  papal 
legate,  he  had  requested  of  him.  This  Pope,  it  would 
appear,  interested  himself  in  his  favor  ;  and  it  was  not 
until  the  accession  of  Nicholas  IV.  to  the  papal  chair, 
a  man  of  a  very  different  temper,  that  the  persecution 
of  Bacon  was  begun  with  renewed  severity.  It  must 
be  remembered,  that  the  philosopher  had  inveighed  with 
vehemence  against  the  vices  of  the  monks  and  of  the 
clergy,  and  against  their  ignorance,  and  had  gathered 
against  him,  on  this  account,  an  array  of  personal  ene¬ 
mies.  The  story  of  Roger  Bacon  is  the  story  of  a 
contest  within  the  Church  in  a  half-enlightened  age,  — 
an  age  when  European  life  was  emerging  out  of  the 
barbarism  that  followed  upon  the  fall  of  the  Western 
Empire,  and  that  was  only  briefly  and  partially  inter¬ 
rupted  in  the  era  of  Charlemagne,  to  return  again  in 
the  tenth  century  with  increased  darkness  and  confu 
sion.  The  story  of  Bacon  is  the  story  of  a  conflict 
between  an  able  Christian  teacher,  who  was  decorated 
with  the  honorary  appellation  of  “  Doctor  Mirabilis,” 


366  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

who  counted  prelates  and  a  pope  among  his  friends* 
and  a  much  more  numerous  set  of  adversaries,  partly 
frightened  by  the  new  ideas  that  he  broached,  and 
partly  exasperated  by  the  stinging  rebukes,  however 
deserved,  which  had  flowed  from  his  sharp  pen.  To 
represent  this  as  a  contest  between  “religion  and 
science,”  under  the  implication  that  anti-Christian  stu* 
dents  of  science  were  on  one  side,  and  the  collective 
body  of  Christians  on  the  other,  is  to  misrepresent  his¬ 
tory,  with  the  result,  if  not  for  the  purpose,  of  feeding 
in  infidel  prejudice.  As  for  Galileo,  there  is  no  reason 
to  question  that  he  was  a  Christian  believer  and  a 
Catholic,  with  a  low  ethical  standard  as  regards  the  obli¬ 
gation  of  veracity,  which  was  only  too  common  among 
the  countrymen  of  Machiavelli.  There  is  no  proof  that 
he  doubted  the  divine  authority  of  the  Bible  more 
than  did  Cardinal  Baronius,  to  whom  Galileo  refers, 
not  by  name,  as  the  author  of  the  remark,  that  the 
Scriptures  were  given  to  tell  us  how  to  go  to  heaven, 
and  not  how  heaven  goes.  Nor  was  Galileo  without 
warm  sympathy  from  ecclesiastics,  some  of  them  high 
in  station,  who  went  as  far  as  they  dared  in  the  attempt 
to  shield  him  against  the  implacable  bigotry  by  which 
he  was  pursued.  Among  his  opponents  were  not  a  few 
men  of  science,  ardent  Aristotelians,  who  combined 
with  ill-informed  and  narrow  churchmen  to  bring  down 
upon  the  head  of  their  illustrious  rival  the  wrath  of  the 
Inquisition.  The  history  of  Galileo  is  the  history  of  a 
Christian  man  of  science  having  among  his  friends  and 
supporters  no  inconsiderable  number  of  Christian  peo¬ 
ple,  who  constituted,  however,  in  Italy,  at  that  time,  a 
powerless  minority  in  the  face  of  the  organized  and 
relentless  vigilance  and  force  of  the  party  of  bigotry 
and  intolerance.  Coming  down  to  recent  days,  we  find 


CONGRUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  4G7 


that  the  earliest  and  most  efficient  promoters  of  geolo¬ 
gical  science  were  not  unfriendly  to  the  doctrine  of 
theism  or  of  revelation.  In  this  country  they  were 
Christian  believers,  like  the  late  Professor  Silliman  and 
President  Hitchcock.  Such  men  as  these,  with  candid 
Christian  scholars  and  ministers  among  their  auxiliaries, 
fought  the  battle  between  the  cause  of  science  and  its 
well-meaning  but  mistaken  and  often  intolerant  oppo* 
sers. 

The  aspersions  cast  upon  Christianity  and  the  Chris¬ 
tian  Church  for  an  alleged  interference  with  the  prog¬ 
ress  of  science  would  be  very  much  diminished  if  the 
authors  of  them  would  learn  to  discriminate  between 
science  and  philosophy.  Under  the  aegis  of  what  is 
called  “science,”  assent  is  claimed  for  guesses  and 
theories  which  belong,  if  they  belong  anywhere,  in  the 
domain  of  metaphysical  speculation.  They  seek  to 
pass  unquestioned  in  the  livery  of  “  science.”  In  them¬ 
selves  they  may  deserve  respect  or  disrespect ;  but  it 
is  a  mere  blunder,  or  a  trick,  to  proclaim  them-  as  the 
legitimate  products  of  inductive  investigation.  When  a 
bright-minded  physicist  proclaims  that  Plato  and  Shak- 
speare  are  potentially  present  in  the  sun’s  rays,  he  is 
not  speaking  in  the  character  of  a  sober  student  of 
nature,  but  of  a  metaphysical  dreamer.  Ilis  propo¬ 
sition  is  without  proof,  and  is  absolutely  incapable  of 
proof  by  any  process  known  to  physical  science.  The 
authority  that  may  justly  pertain  to  him  when  he 
stands  on  his  own  ground,  he  loses  utterly  when  he 
leaps  the  fence  into  a  field  not  his  own.  When  a  biolo¬ 
gist  assumes  to  be  an  oracle  respecting  the  origin  and 
end  of  the  universe,  the  freedom  of  the  will,  and  the 
nature  of  consciousness,  his  utterances  may  be  wise  or 
foolish ;  but  they  are,  at  least,  not  at  all  authoritative. 


468  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

If  the  prominent  naturalists,  or  several  of  them,  would 
stick  to  their  province,  they  would  be  more  instructive, 
even  if  less  notorious.  The  agnosticism  of  Herbert 
Spencer  is  an  idea  of  Hamilton  and  Mansel  as  to  the 
relativity  of  knowledge,  caught  up,  and  dissevered  from 
its  adjuncts, — an  idea  derived  first  from  Kant.  So  far 
from  having  any  verification  in  natural  and  physical 
science,  it  lies  quite  outside  o±  that  realm.  Yet  tills 
underpinning  of  Spencer’s  system  is  gravely  mistaken 
by  some  for  a  “  scientific  ”  truth,  instead  of  a  philosoph¬ 
ical  assumption  of  such  a  character  that  the  structure 
reared  on  it  is  a  house  built  on  the  sand. 

If  all  that  has  been  said  of  the  opposition  offered  in 
past  times  to  scientific  progress  by  Christian  people 
were  true, — and  we  have  tried  to  state  how  much  of 
truth  there  is  in  the  imputation,  and  how  much  of 
error,  —  no  conclusion  adverse  to  the  truth  of  Christi¬ 
anity  could  be  inferred.  To  justify  such  a  conclusion, 
it  would  be  necessary  to  prove  that  the  Christian  faith, 
the  doctrine  of  Christ  and  of  his  redemption,  carries  in 
it  by  natural  or  necessary  consequence  this  antipathy. 
It  might  be  that  the  professed  adherents  of  a  religious 
s}Tstem  fail,  in  numerous  instances,  to  apprehend  in 
certain  particulars  its  true  genius.  They  may  identify 
their  own  preconceptions  with  its  actual  teaching 
They  may  misinterpret  that  teaching  in  some  important 
aspects  of  it.  They  may  carry  their  own  ideas  into  the 
sacred  books,  instead  of  receiving  their  ideas  from  them. 
They  may  fail  to  apprehend  clearly^  the  design  and 
scope  of  their  sacred  writings,  the  character  and  limits 
of  their  authority.  They  may  cling  to  the  letter,  and 
let  the  spirit,  in  a  measure,  escape  them.  They  may 
fail  to  separate  between  the  essential  and  the  accidental 
in  their  contents,  the  truth  and  the  vehicle  which  em* 


OONGRUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  469 


bodies  it.  Unless  it  can  be  shown,  then,  that  Chris* 
ti  unity  involves  a  view  of  the  material  world  and  of  its 
origin,  of  the  laws  of  nature  and  its  final  cause,  and  of 
man,  which  is  at  variance  with  the  results  of  natural 
investigation,  nothing  which  the  adherents  of  Christi¬ 
anity  have  said  or  done  in  this  matter  is  of  vital  mo¬ 
ment.  That  Christianity,  fairly  understood  and  defined, 
involves  no  such  contradiction  to  scientific  belief,  is 
capable  of  being  proved. 

This  division  of  the  subject  we  have  now  to  consider. 
A  sense  of  the  beauty  and  sublimity  of  nature  pervades 
the  Bible.  The  keen  relish  of  the  Hebrew  writers  for 
the  grand  and  the  lovely  aspects  of  nature  is  specially 
manifest  in  the  Psalms  and  prophets.  The  starry  sky, 
forest,  and  mountain  and  sea,  filled  the  Israelite's  heart 
with  mingled  awe  and  rejoicing.  Nor  was  he  insensible 
to  the  influence  of  gentler  sights  and  sounds,  —  to  the 
bleating  of  the  flocks  on  the  hillside,  the  songs  of  birds, 
the  flowers  and  fruits  with  their  varied  colors.  That 
sort  of  asceticism  which  turns  away  from  nature  as 
something,  if  not  hostile  to  the  spirit,  yet  beneath  man's 
notice,  is  in  absolute  contrast  with  the  tone  of  the 
Scriptures.  The  religion  of  the  Hebrews,  not  less  than 
the  religion  of  the  New  Testament,  looking  on  the 
visible  world  as  the  work  of  God  and  a  theatre  of  his 
incessant  activity,  allowed  no  such  antipathy.  It  left 
no  room  for  a  cynical  contempt  or  disregard  of  external 
beauty.  The  glowing  descriptions  of  poets  and  seers, 
reflecting  the  spontaneous  impressions  made  by  nature 
on  souls  alive  to  its  grandeur  and  its  charm,  naturally 
inspired  an  appreciation  of  that  kind  of  knowledge 
which  was  ascribe!  to  the  king  who  “spake  of  treecs 
from  the  cedar-tree  that  is  in  Lebanon  even  unto  the 


470  TIIE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

hyssop  that  springeth  out  of  the  wall :  he  spake  also 
of  beasts,  and  of  fowl,  and  of  creeping  things,  and  of 
fishes”  (1  Kings  iv.  33). 

The  unity  of  nature  is  presupposed  in  the  Scrip¬ 
tures.  It  is  the  correlate  of  the  strict  monotheism  of 
the  Bible.  There  is  no  divided  realm,  as  there  is  no 
dial  or  plural  sovereignty.  Humboldt  refers  to  the 
hundred-and-fourth  Psalm  as  presenting  the  image 
of  the  whole  cosmos :  “  Who  coverest  thyself  with 
light  as  with  a  garment :  who  stretchest  out  the  heavens 
like  a  curtain :  who  layeth  the  beams  of  his  chambers 
in  the  waters:  who  maketh  the  clouds  his  chariot,” 
etc.  “We  are  astonished,”  writes  Humboldt,  “to  find 
in  a  lyrical  poem  of  such  a  limited  compass  the  whole 
universe  —  the  heavens  and  the  earth  —  sketched  with 
a  few  bold  touches.  The  calm  and  toilsome  labor  of 
man,  from  the  rising  of  the  sun  to  the  setting  of  the 
same,  when  his  daily  work  is  done,  is  here  contrasted 
with  the  moving  life  of  the  elements  of  nature.  This 
contrast  and  generalization  in  the  conception  of  the 
mutual  action  of  natural  phenomena,  and  this  retro¬ 
spection  of  an  omnipresent,  invisible  power,  which  can 
renew  the  earth,  or  crumble  it  to  dust,  constitute  a 
solemn  and  exalted,  rather  than  a  glowing  and  gentle, 
form  of  poetic  creation.”  It  “is  a  rich  and  animated 
conception  of  the  life  of  nature.”  1  This  one  thought 
of  the  unity  of  nature  is  not  an  induction,  but  an  intu¬ 
itive  perception  involved  in  the  revealed  idea  of  God, 
and  gives  to  science  by  anticipation  one  of  its  impera¬ 
tive  demands. 

Not  only  does  the  Bible  proclaim  the  unity  of  nature ; 
it  views  nature  as  a  system. 

In  the  first  place,  the  operation  of  natural  causes  is 
1  Cosmos,  voL  ii.  p.  412  (Bohn’s  ed.). 


CONGRTJITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  471 

recognized.  In  the  story  of  the  creation,  every  sort  of 
plant  and  tree  was  made  to  yield  “fruit  after  its  kind, 
ivhose  seed  is  in  itself ;  ”  and  every  class  of  animals,  to 
produce  offspring  “  after  its  kind.”  One  has  only  to  look 
at  Job  and  the  Psalms  to  convince  himself  that  the 
reality  of  nature  and  of  natural  agents  is  a  familiar 
thought  to  the  sacred  writers.  It  is  true  that  these 
writers  are  religious :  they  do  not  limit  their  attention 
to  the  proximate  antecedent :  they  go  back  habitually 
to  the  First  Cause.  They  may  often  leap  over  interme¬ 
diate  subordinate  forces,  and  attribute  phenomena 
directly  to  the  personal  source  of  all  energy.  This 
involves  no  denial  of  secondary,  instrumental  causes, 
but  only  of  an  atheistic  or  pantheistic  mode  of  regard¬ 
ing  them.  If  we  say  that  Erwin  von  Steinbach  built 
the  spire  of  the  Strasburg  Cathedral,  we  do  not  mean 
that  stones  and  derricks  were  not  employed  in  the  con¬ 
struction  of  it.  We  simply  trace  it  immediately  to 
him  whose  plan  and  directive  energy  originated  the 
structure.  When  the  Bible  says  that  “  by  the  word  of 
the  Lord  were  the  heavens  made,”  there  is  involved  no 
denial  of  the  nebular  theory.  Hardly  any  assertion  rela¬ 
tive  to  the  subject  is  more  frequent  than  that  the  Scrip¬ 
tures  recognize  no  natural  agencies.  It  is  unfounded. 
It  springs  from  a  dull  method  of  interpreting  religious 
phraseology,  and  from  a  neglect  of  multiplied  passages 
which  teach  the  contrary. 

Not  only  are  natural  causes  recognized  :  nature  is 
governed  by  law.  Its  powers  are  under  systematic 
regulation.  To  the  Hebrew  poet,  says  Humboldt, 
nature  “  is  a  work  of  creation  and  order,  the  living 
expression  of  the  omnipresence  of  the  Divinity  in  the 
visible  world.”  1  There  are  no  dark  realms  given  up 

1  Cosmos,  vol.  ii.  p.  412. 


472  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

to  unreason  and  disorder.  Everywhere  the  power  and 
wisdom  of  the  Most  High  have  stamped  themselves  on 
the  creation.  The  same  writer  from  whom  we  have 
just  quoted,  remarks  of  the  closing  chapters  of  the  Book 
of  Job :  “  The  meteorological  processes  which  take 
place  in  the  atmosphere,  the  formation  and  solution 
of  vapor,  according  to  the  changing  direction  of  the 
wind,  the  play  of  its  colors,  the  generation  of  hail  and  of 
the  rolling  thunder,  are  described  with  individualizing 
accuracy ;  and  many  questions  are  propounded  which 
we,  in  the  present  state  of  our  physical  knowledge,  may 
indeed  be  able  to  express  under  more  scientific  defini¬ 
tions,  but  scarcely  to  answer  satisfactorily.”  1  In  these 
chapters  of  Job  the  mysteries  of  nature  are  set  forth  in 
connection  with  the  reign  of  law  and  the  impressive 
demonstration  afforded  by  it  of  the  inexhaustible  wis¬ 
dom  and  might  of  the  Creator  and  Sustainer  of  all 
things.  The  waters  in  their  ebb  and  flow,  the  clouds 
in  their  gathering  and  their  journeys,  the  stars  and  con¬ 
stellations  in  their  regular  motion,  the  course  of  the 
seasons,  the  races  of  animals,  with  the  means  given 
them  for  safety  and  subsistence,  in  a  word,  every  de¬ 
partment  of  the  physical  universe,  is  brought  into  this 
picture  of  the  ordered  empire  of  Jehovah.  Looking  at 
the  Scriptures  as  a  whole,  we  may  say,  that,  so  far  from 
contradicting  science  in  their  views  of  nature,  they  an¬ 
ticipate  the  fundamental  assumptions  of  science  which 
induction  helps  to  verify,  and  that  nothing  in  the  litera¬ 
ture  of  the  remote  past  is  so  accordant  with  that  sense 
of  the  unity,  order,  not  to  speak  of  the  glory,  of  nature, 
which  science  fosters,  as  are  the  Sacred  Writings. 

It  was  to  be  expected  that  a  revelation  having  for  its 
end  the  moral  deliverance  of  mankind  would  abstain 


1  Cosmos,  vol.  ii.  p.  414. 


CONGRUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  473 

from  authoritative  teaching  on  matters  relating  to  nat¬ 
ural  science,  except  so  far  as  they  are  inseparable  from 
moral  and  religious  truth.  Theism,  as  contrasted  with 
atheism,  dualism,  pantheism,  and  polytheism,  is  a  funda¬ 
mental  postulate  of  revelation  and  redemption.  That 
the  only  living  God  has  created,  upholds,  and  dwells  in 
the  world  of  nature,  that  the  world  in  its  order  and 
design  testifies  to  him,  that  his  providence  rules  all, 
are  truths  which  enter  into  the  warp  and  woof  of 
the  revealed  system.  So  man’s  place  in  creation,  his 
nature,  sin  as  related  to  his  physical  and  moral  consti¬ 
tution,  the  effect  of  death,  are  themes  falling  within  the 
scope  of  revealed  religion.  In  general,  we  find  that  the 
Bible  confines  itself  to  this  circle  of  truths.  The  ideas 
of  nature,  apart  from  its  direct  religious  bearings,  are 
such  as  contemporary  knowledge  had  attained.  The 
geography,  the  astronomy,  the  meteorology,  the  geology, 
of  the  scriptural  authors,  are  on  the  plane  of  their  times. 
Copernicus  and  Columbus,  Aristotle  and  Newton,  are 
not  anticipated.  The  Bible  renders  unto  science  the 
things  of  science.  The  principal  apparent  exception  to 
this  procedure  is  in  the  somewhat  detailed  narrative  of 
creation  in  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis.  It  is  obvious 
that  details,  if  such  there  be,  which  go  beyond  the  limit 
defined  above,  are  of  the  nature  of  obiter  dicta ,  —  infor¬ 
mation  vouchsafed  beyond  that  which  might  reasonably 
be  expected. 

Respecting  this  passage,  it  deserves  to  be  remarked, 
that  elsewhere  in  the  Old  Testament  no  stress  is  laid 
upon  the  details  as  there  found.  The  allusions  to  the 
origin  of  things  in  Job,  the  Psalms,  and  Proverbs,  do 
not  exhibit  the  succession  of  organic  beings  in  just  the 
same  order.  Even  in  the  hundred-and-fourth  Psalm, 
where  the  same  order  in  the  works  of  creation  appears, 


474  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

—  the  writer  having  in  mind  the  Genesis  narrative,  — 
no  weight  is  attached  to  the  number  of  days.1 

If  we  glance  at  the  history  of  the  interpretation  ol 
this  passage,  we  shall  find  that  the  meaning  given  to  it 
in  different  periods  is  generally  matched  to  the  science 
of  the  day.  From  Philo  and  Origen  the  allegorical 
treatment  spread  in  the  ancient  Church,  and  prevailed 
in  the  middle  ages.  Augustine  considered  that  the 
works  of  creation  were  in  reality  simultaneous,  or  that 
creation  is  timeless.  His  view  was,  that  time  begins 
with  creation.  In  truth,  one  principal  difficulty  with  in¬ 
terpreters  down  to  recent  days  was  that  creation,  which 
is  by  an  instantaneous  fiat,  should  extend  over  days. 
The  time  was  thought  to  be,  not  too  short,  but  too  long. 
That  God  created  the  universe ;  that  things  came  into 
being  in  orderly  succession ;  that  the  crown  of  the  crea¬ 
tion  is  man ;  that  man,  though  material  on  one  side  of 
his  nature,  was  made  for  a  higher  end  than  the  animals 
were ;  that  he  was  to  use  them  in  his  service ;  that  his 
sin  was  not  an  infirmity  of  constitution,  but  a  wilful 
disobedience  to  God;  that  conscious  guilt  and  shame 
followed  sin,  —  these  great  truths,  to  say  the  least,  are 
embodied  in  the  Genesis  narrative,  in  the  estimation  of 
all  who  receive  the  religion  of  Christ. 

But  since  the  rise  of  modern  astronomy  and  geology, 
new  difficulties  have  arisen.  The  physical  system,  as 
conceived  by  the  Genesis  writer,  is  said  to  be  geocen¬ 
tric.  The  origination  of  the  luminaries  above,  of  the 
earth  and  of  the  organized  beings  upon  it,  seems  to  be 
placed  at  an  epoch  only  a  few  thousand  years  distant, 
and  to  be  represented  as  taking  place  in  a  few  days. 
On  the  contrary,  geology,  to  say  nothing  here  of  ethno- 

1  See  Dillmann,  Die  Genesis,  p.  12;  cf.  Isa.  xxvi.  7-10,  xxxviii.  4  seq.j 
Prov.  viii.  24  seq  ;  Ps.  xxiv.  2. 


COtTGRUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  475 

logical  and  archaeological  science,  shows  that  the  system 
of  things  has  come  into  being  gradually,  that  creation 
stretches  over  vast  periods  in  the  past.  Enough  has 
been  said  already  to  indicate  how  groundless  are  the 
objections  which  spring  merely  from  inattention  to  the 
religious  point  of  view  of  the  biblical  writers.  The 
First  Cause  is  brought  into  the  foreground:  proximate 
antecedents  are  passed  over.  The  features  of  the  Gen¬ 
esis  narrative  which  seem  to  clash  with  science  are 
chiefly  the  order  of  succession  in  creation,  and  the 
chronological  statements. 

Various  hypotheses  for  the  reconcilement  of  Genesis 
and  science  may  be  left  unnoticed,  for  the  reason  that 
they  are  either  given  up,  or  deal  too  largely  in  fancy  to 
merit  serious  consideration.  There  is  one  theory,  how¬ 
ever,  which  is  not  wanting  in  able  advocates,  and  is 
entitled  to  a  hearing.  A  number  of  eminent  natural¬ 
ists,  with  whom  coincide  numerous  theologians,  look  on 
the  Genesis  narrative  as  an  epitome  of  the  history  of 
creation,  “  days  ”  being  the  symbolical  equivalent,  or 
representative,  of  the  long  eras  which  science  discloses ; 
there  being,  however,  a  correspondence  in  the  order  of 
sequence,  —  a  correspondence  of  a  very  striking  charac¬ 
ter,  and  giving  evidence  of  inspiration.  It  is  not  sup¬ 
posed  that  the  facts  of  science  were  opened  to  the  view 
of  the  writer  of  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis ;  but  he  saw, 
possibly  in  a  vision,  or  through  some  other  method  of 
supernatural  teaching,  the  course  of  things  in  their  due 
order.  The  length  of  time  really  consumed  in  the  pro¬ 
cess,  he,  perhaps,  may  have  been  as  ignorant  of  as  were 
his  readers. 

Plausible  as  this  theory  may  appear  to  some,  and  sup¬ 
ported  though  it  be  by  distinguished  names  in  science, 
us  well  as  in  theology,  it  has  to  encounter  grave  diffi 


476  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 

culties.  Not  a  few  learned  naturalists  regard  the  al* 
leged  c  urespondence  in  the  order  of  events  as  unreal, 
or  as  effected  by  a  forced  interpretation  of  the  narra- 
tive.  For  example,  the  earlier  animal  species  did  not 
wait  to  become  extinct  until  the  earlier  species  of  plant's 
had  passed  away,  but  both  simultaneously  perished , 
while,  according  to  Gen.  i.  10,  12,  the  vegetable  king¬ 
dom  was  brought  into  being  as  a  whole,  and  the  divine 
approval  was  pronounced  upon  it ;  and  not  until  after 
the  interval  of  a  “  day  ”  were  the  first  animals  created. 
With  these  naturalists  many  judicious  critics  and  exe- 
getes  are  agreed.  The  matching  of  the  narrative  to  the 
geological  history  is  thought  to  require  a  more  flexi¬ 
ble  and  arbitrary  understanding  of  words  and  phrases 
in  the  former  than  a  sound  method  of  hermeneutics  will 
sanction.1  Another  circumstance  which  tends  to  give 
a  precarious  character  to  the  hypothesis  in  question  is 
the  documentary  composition  of  Genesis.  It  is  gener¬ 
ally  agreed  that  there  are  two  distinct  accounts  of  the 
creation,  from  somewhat  different  points  of  view,  placed 
in  juxtaposition.  The  hand  of  the  compiler  is  plainly 
seen.  It  may  be  thought,  however,  that  the  first  of 
these  fragments  owed  its  origin,  in  the  first  instance,  to 
a  vision,  or  to  some  other  special  extraordinary  commu¬ 
nication  from  Heaven.  Yet  this  theory  would  require 
to  be  established.  The  new  light  which  has  been  ob¬ 
tained  upon  Oriental  history  and  religions  raises  addi¬ 
tional  doubt  as  to  the  tenableness  of  the  hypothesis  of 
which  we  are  speaking.  A  mistake  has  often  been 
made,  especially  by  naturalists,  in  assuming  that  the 
first  chapter  of  Genesis  stands  by  itself,  instead  of  being 
one  of  a  series  of  narratives  which  extend  over  the  ear¬ 
lier  portion  of  the  book,  and  must  be  examined  and 

1  See  Dillmann,  p.  11. 


CONGRUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRIS1IAN  FAITH.  477 

judged  as  a  whole.  Now,  we  have  ascertained  that  nar¬ 
ratives  bearing  strong  marks  of  likeness  to  these  were 
current  among  the  other  Semitic  peoples  with  whom  the 
Israelites  were  related,  —  among  the  Phoenicians,  and 
among  the  Babylonians  and  Assyrians.  Some  of  the 
Chaldsean  legends  or  traditions  appear  to  have  formed 
one  stock  with  the  Genesis  narratives,  at  the  same  time 
that  these,  in  their  present  form,  are  distinguished  by 
their  freedom  from  polytheistic  myths,  and  by  the  lofty 
theistic  features  which  have  been  pointed  out.  How 
far  back  can  the  purer  or  the  Genesis  form  of  these 
narratives  be  traced  ?  Are  they  to  be  considered  the 
original,  most  ancient  form  of  traditionary  belief,  of 
which  the  other  Semitic  legends  are  a  corruption? 
Positive  evidence  of  an  historical  kind  for  such  a  view 
is  wanting.  There  is  one  recent  theory  which  appears 
void  of  probability.  It  is,  that  the  narratives  in  the 
first  nine  chapters  of  Genesis  were  taken  from  the  Baby¬ 
lonians  by  the  Jews  during  the  exile,  and  then,  for  the 
first  time,  introduced  into  their  Scriptures.  The  sup¬ 
position  that  they  would  borrow  a  cosmogony,  with  the 
connected  narrative,  from  a  detested  nation  of  idolaters, 
is  in  the  highest  degree  unlikely.  Dillmann  has  shown 
that  the  Genesis  stories  bear  a  closer  resemblance  to  the 
Phoenician  than  to  the  Chaldsean  legends,  as  far  as  these 
last  are  at  present  known  by  the  cuneiform  monuments. 
The  conception  of  a  first  man  in  a  garden,  in  fellowship 
with  God,  and  falling  into  sin,  is  not  met  with  in  the 
Chaldsean  stories,  nor  is  it  met  with  anywhere  but  in 
Genesis.1  The  idea  of  a  tree  of  life  is  common  in  Semi¬ 
tic  and  Iranian  legends.  It  is  pre-exilian,  being  advert¬ 
ed  to  in  the  book  of  Proverbs.  The  story  of  the  Flood 

i  Dillmann,  Uber  die  Herkunft  d.  urgeschichtl.  Sagen  d.  Hebraei 
(Berlin,  1882),  p.  5. 


478  THE  GR01NTDS  OF  THEIST1C  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


is  not  peculiar  to  Babylon.  It  is  a  wide-spread  tra¬ 
dition  among  many  nations.  If,  therefore,  the  narra 
tives  in  Genesis  are  of  Babylonian  origin,  it  is  by  some 
indirect  path,  and  this  derivation  is  of  a  very  remote 
date.  Can  it  be  reasonably  thought  that  narratives  in¬ 
volving  so  pure  and  exalted  a  theism  were  brought  by 
Abraham  from  the  land  of  his  fathers  into  Palestine  ? 
If  not,  then  the  expurgation  and  ennobling  of  these 
hoary  traditions  must  have  been  the  work  of  minds 
illuminated  by  the  revelation  to  Moses.  The  divine  or 
inspired  element  in  the  Genesis  narrative  of  the  crea¬ 
tion  would  thus  be  made  to  consist  in  the  exclusion  of 
elements  at  war  with  the  religion  of  Israel,  and  in  the 
easting  of  the  ancient  story  into  a  shape  in  which  it 
should  become  a  vehicle  of  communicating,  not  scien¬ 
tific  truth,  but  the  great  religious  ideas  which  form  the 
kernel  of  the  Mosaic  revelation.1  It  cannot  be  denied 
that  this  would  be  an  important  step  taken  in  the  deliv¬ 
erance  of  the  Israelites  from  polytheistic  superstition. 
It  might  be  all  that  God  saw  it  wise  to  effect  on  that 
stage  of  revelation.  To  substitute  a  scientific  cosmog¬ 
ony  for  the  inherited  beliefs  of  the  early  Israelites  would 
require  magic  rather  than  miracle.  It  would  be  either 
a  supernatural  teaching  of  what  it  belongs  to  the  in¬ 
quisitive  mind  of  man  and  the  progress  of  science  to 
discover,  or  it  would  be  a  kind  of  inspired  riddle,  the 
meaning  of  which  could  not  be  in  the  least  divined  — - 
in  this  respect  differing  from  prophecy  —  until  science 
had  rendered  the  ascertainment  of  its  meaning  super- 
fiuous. 

No  theory  of  evolution  clashes  with  the  fundamental 
ideas  of  the  Bible  as  long  as  it  is  not  denied  that  there 

1  Among  tlie  writers  who  defend  this  general  view  is  Lenormant, 
The  Beginnings  of  History,  etc. 


CONGRUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  479 

is  a  human  species,  and  that  man  is  distinguished  from 
the  lower  animals  by  attributes  which  we  know  that 
he  possesses.  Whether  the  first  of  human  kind  were 
created  outright,  or,  as  the  second  narrative  in  Genesis 
represents  it,  were  formed  out  of  inorganic  material, 
out  of  the  dust  of  the  ground,  or  were  generated  by 
inferior  organized  beings,  through  a  metamorphosis  of 
germs,  or  some  other  process,  —  these  questions,  as  they 
are  indifferent  to  theism,  so  they  are  indifferent  as 
regards  the  substance  of  biblical  teaching.  It  is  only 
when,  in  the  name  of  science,  the  attempt  is  made  to 
smuggle  in  a  materialistic  philosophy,  that  the  essential 
ideas  of  the  Bible  are  contradicted. 

As  regards  the  idea  of  creation,  or  the  origin  of 
things  by  the  act  of  God’s  will,  it  is  a  point  on  which 
science  is  incompetent  to  pronounce.  It  belongs  in  the 
realm  of  philosophy  and  theology.  Natural  science 
can  describe  the  forms  of  being  that  exist,  can  trace 
them  back  to  antecedent  forms,  can  continue  the  pro¬ 
cess  until  it  arrives  at  a  point  beyond  which  investi¬ 
gation  can  go  no  farther ;  then  it  must  hand  over  the 
problem  to  philosophy.  To  disprove  creation  would 
require  an  insight  into  the  nature  of  matter  and  of 
finite  spirit  such  as  no  discreet  man  of  science  would 
pretend  for  a  moment  to  have  gained.  This  question, 
too,  the  question  what  constitutes  the  reality  of  things 
perceived,  is  one  of  the  mysteries  to  the  solution  of 
which  natural  science  lends  a  certain  amount  of  aid, 
but  which  metaphysics  and  theology  have  at  last  to 
determine  as  far  as  the  human  faculties  make  it  pos¬ 
sible. 

Christianity  touches  the  domain  of  science  in  the 
Christian  doctrine  of  physical  death  as  the  penalty  of 
sin.  Do  not  all  living  things  die  ?  Do  not  the  animals, 


480  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


those  whose  organization  most  resembles  that  of  man, 
perish  at  the  end  of  an  allotted  term  ?  Are  not  the 
seeds  of  dissolution  in  our  physical  constitution  ?  Do 
not  the  Scriptures  themselves  dwell  on  man’s  natural 
frailty  and  mortality  ?  Does  not  an  apostle  —  the  same 
who  asserts  that  death  came  in  through  sin  —  speak  of 
the  first  man  as  of  the  earth,  and  mortal  ? 

These  questions  are  to  be  severally  answered.  The 
narrative  in  Genesis  does  not  imply  that  man  was  im¬ 
mortal  in  virtue  of  his  physical  constitution.  It  teaches 
the  opposite.  Its  doctrine  is,  that  had  he  remained 
obedient  to  God,  and  in  communion  with  him,  an 
exemption  from  mortality  would  have  been  granted 
him.  Not  only  would  he  have  been  spared  the  bodily 
pains  which  sin  directly  entails  through  physical  law, 
and  the  remorse  and  mental  anguish  which  are  “  the 
sting  of  death,”  but  he  would  have  made  the  transition 
to  the  higher  form  of  life  and  of  being  through  some 
other  means  than  by  the  forcing  apart  of  soul  and  body 
The  resurrection  of  Jesus,  and  the  promised  resurrec 
tion  of  his  followers,  is  the  giving  of  a  renewed  organ 
ism  —  “a  spiritual  body  ” — in  the  room  of  “flesh  and 
blood.”  This  involves  the  idea  of  a  restoration  of  man 
to  that  which  he  forfeited  through  sin ;  and  it  aids  us 
in  conceiving  of  a  transformation,  the  method  of  which 
is  altogether  a  mystery,  through  which  unfallen  man 
would  have  been  developed  into  a  higher  mode  of 
existence,  reached  by  a  process  less  violent  and  more 
natural  than  the  crisis  of  death.  The  science  which  is 
adventurous  enough  to  find  Plato’s  Dialogues  and  Shak- 
speare’s  plays  in  the  sunbeams  will  hardly  assume  to 
deny  the  possibility  of  such  a  transmutation.  Chris¬ 
tianity  does  not  permit  sin,  and  the  effects  of  sin  on 
human  nature,  to  be  lightly  estimated.  A  moral  dis* 


CONGRUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  481 

order,  a  disorder  at  the  core  of  man’s  being,  brings  con¬ 
sequences  more  portentous  than  are  dreamt  of  in  the 
philosophy  which  will  not  recognize  this  terrible  but 
patent  fact.  It  is  true  that  the  lower  animals  die. 
But  man  is  distinguished  from  them.  He  is  more  than 
a  sample  of  the  species.  He  is  an  individual.  He 
includes,  in  his  principle  of  life,  rationality,  conscience, 
affinity  to  God.  If  he  were  nothing  but  an  animal, 
then  it  might  be  irrational  to  think  of  his  escaping  the 
fate  of  the  brute.  But,  being  thus  exalted,  there  is  no 
absurdity  in  conceiving  of  an  evolution  from  the  lower 
to  the  higher  stage  of  existence,  effected  without  the 
need  of  shuffling  off  the  body,  —  an  evolution,  however, 
conditioned  on  his  perseverance  in  moral  fidelity  and 
fellowship  with  God.  When  the  Scriptures  speak  of 
human  weakness,  frailty,  and  mortality,  it  is  to  mankind 
in  their  present  condition,  with  the  consequences  of  sin 
upon  them,  that  they  refer. 

The  Scriptures  point  forward  to  the  perfecting  of 
the  kingdom  of  God,  the  consummation  of  this  world’s 
history.  The  physical  universe  is  not  an  end  in  itself. 
It  is  subservient  to  moral  and  spiritual  ends.  It  is  not 
to  remain  forever  in  its  present  state.  It  is  to  partake 
in  the  redemption.  The  material  system  is  to  be  trans¬ 
figured,  ennobled,  converted  into  an  abode  and  instru¬ 
ment  suited  to  the  transfigured  nature  of  the  redeemed. 
“  Without  the  loss  of  its  substantial  being,  matter  will 
exchange  its  darkness,  hardness,  weight,  inertia,  and 
impenetrability,  for  clearness,  brilliancy,  elasticity,  and 
transparency.”  1  The  mystery  that  overhangs  this 
change  is  no  ground  for  disbelief.  As  far  as  physical 
science  has  a  right  to  speak  on  the  subject,  it  furnishes 


1  Dormer,  Christl.  Glaubenslehre,  ii.  973. 


482  THE  GROUNDS  OF  THEISTIC  AND  CHRISTIAN  BELIEF. 


arguments  for  the  possibility  of  such  an  evolution,  and 
corroborates  the  obscure  intimations  of  Scripture.1 

The  remark  is  not  unfrequentlv  heard,  that,  though 
there  may  be  no  positive  dissonance  between  science 
and  Scripture,  yet  the  whole  conception  of  the  universe 
which  science  has  brought  to  us  is  unlike  that  of  the 
biblical  writers,  —  so  unlike,  that  the  biblical  doctrine 
of  redemption  is  made  incredible.  The  Barth,  instead 
of  being  the  centre  of  the  sidereal  system,  is  only  a 
minute  member  of  it.  It  is,  one  has  said,  but  “  a  pin¬ 
point  ”  in  the  boundless  creation^  Consequently,  man 
is  reduced  to  insignificance.  How  can  we  imagine  a 
mission  of  the  Son  of  God,  an  incarnation  of  Deity, 
in  behalf  of  a  race  inhabiting  this  little  sphere  ?  The 
incredibility  of  the  Christian  doctrine  is  heightened, 
we  are  told,  by  the  probability,  given  by  analogy,  that 
other  rational  beings  without  number,  possibly  of  higher 
grade  than  man,  exist  in  the  multitudinous  worlds  which 
astronomy  has  unveiled. 

The  whole  point  of  this  difficulty  lies  in  the  sup¬ 
posed  insignificance  of  man.  He  who  entertains  such 
thoughts  will  do  well  to  ponder  certain  eloquent  say¬ 
ings  of  Pascal.  What  is  the  physical  universe,  with  its 
worlds  upon  worlds,  compared  wfith  the  thought  of  it 
in  man’s  mind  ?  Who  is  it  that  discovers  the  planets, 
weighs  them,  measures  their  paths,  predicts  their  mo¬ 
tions?  Shall  bulk  be  the  standard  of  worth?  Shall 
greatness  be  judged  by  the  space  that  is  filled  ?  One 
should  remember,  also,  the  sublime  observation  of  Kant 
on  the  starry  heavens  above  us  and  the  moral  law  within 
us,  —  one  connecting  us  with  a  vast  physical  order,  in 
which,  to  be  sure,  we  occupy  a  small  place,  but  tin 
1  See  Tait  and  Stewart,  Tlie  Unseen  Universe. 


CONGRUITY  OF  SCIENCE  WITH  CHRISTIAN  FAITH.  483 


other  binding  us  to  a  moral  order  of  infinite  moment, 
giving  to  our  spiritual  being  a  dignity  which  cannot 
be  exaggerated.  As  to  possible  races  of  rational  crea¬ 
tures  in  other  worlds,  who,  if  they  exist,  can  affirm 
that  the  mission  and  work  of  Christ  have  no  signifi¬ 
cance  for  them?  But,  not  to  lose  ourselves  in  con¬ 
jecture,  the  objection  is  seen,  on  other  grounds,  to  be 
without  any  good  foundation.  The  existence  of  any 
number  of  rational  creatures  elsewhere  does  not  di¬ 
minish  in  the  least  the  worth  of  man ;  it  does  not  lessen 
his  need  of  help  from  God ;  it  does  not  weaken  the 
appeal  which  his  forlorn  condition  makes  to  the  heart 
of  the  heavenly  Father;  it  does  not  lower  the  proba¬ 
bility  of  a  divine  interposition  for  his  benefit.  Shall 
the  Samaritan  turn  away  from  one  sufferer  at  the 
wayside,  because  myriads  of  other  men  exist,  many  of 
them,  perhaps,  in  a  worse  condition  than  he?  This 
method  of  reasoning  and  of  feeling  is  quickly  con¬ 
demned  when  it  is  met  with  in  human  relations.  It 
would  deaden  the  spirit  of  benevolence.  It  is  not  less 
fallacious,  and  not  less  misleading,  when  applied  to  the 
relations  of  God  to  mankind. 


'  SB  1  III 


INDEX 


Abbot  E.,  190, 194,  201,  223,  234. 
Abbot,  E.  A.,  240. 

Acacius,  331. 

Agassiz,  L.,  453. 

Albert  the  Great,  447,  464. 
Anaxagoras,  447. 

Anselm,  40,  74. 

Ansgar,  287. 

Antilegomena,  432  seq.,  435. 
Antinomies  of  Kant,  87. 
Apocalypse,  authorship  of  the,  237, 
441. 

Apollinaris,  Bishop  of  Hierapolis, 
247. 

Apollonius  of  Tyana,  286. 

Apostles,  authority  of  the,  425 
Arabs,  their  science,  459  seq. 
Aristotle,  74,  447. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  123,  299. 

Arnold,  T.,  287. 

Athanasius,  428. 

Athenagoras,  232. 

Atticus,  Archbishop  of  Constanti¬ 
nople,  381. 

Augustine,  his  reports  of  miracles, 
293. 

Bacon,  F.,  on  prophecy,  321. 

Bacon,  Roger,  447,  464  seq. 
Barnabas,  the  Epistle  of,  433. 
Baronius,  466. 

Barth,  395. 

Baur,  his  theory  of  Christianity,  223 
seq.;  his  theory  of  John’s  Gospel, 
253;  on  Paul’s  conversion,  311. 
Beeket,  Thomas  k,  289. 

Berkeley,  49. 

Bernard,  St.,  290. 

Beyschlag,  257. 

Bleek,  190,  316,  321,  325. 

Boniface,  287. 

Bowne,  B.  P.,  26,  33,  35. 

Boyle,  R.,  65. 

Buckle,  his  school,  457. 

Buddha,  24,  129. 


Buddhism,  129,  396  se<$. 

Buffon,  66. 

Burke,  Edmund,  291. 

Burnouf,  398. 

Butler,  Bishop,  279. 

Calderwood,  H.,  39. 

Calvin,  on  the  books  of  the  New 
Testament,  438. 

Canon,  Muratorian,  431. 

Canon,  Old-Latin,  430. 

Canon,  of  the  Old  Testament,  427. 
Canon,  Syrian,  430.  See  Peshito. 
Celsus,  232. 

Charity,  how  promoted  by  Chris¬ 
tianity,  379  seq. 

Chastel,  381. 

Cheyne,  328. 

Christ.  See  Jesus. 

Chrysostom,  293,  382. 

Clairaut,  66. 

Clement  of  Alexandria,  183, 195,  etc. 
Clement  of  Rome,  149,  184 ;  his 
Epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  433. 
Collins,  11. 

Comte,  78  seq. 

Confucius,  24,  128. 

Conservation  of  energy,  18. 
Constantine,  298. 

Copernicus,  65,  66. 

Cowper,  450. 

Creation,  the  idea  of,  479. 

Credner,  191,  200. 

Cunningham,  on  the  Epistle  of  Bar¬ 
nabas,  232. 

Dana,  J.  D.,  62. 

Darmestetter,  J.,  128. 

Darwin,  46,  53  seq.,  452,  etc. 
Descartes,  2,  40,  74. 

Dillmann,  403,  474. 

Dorner,  64,  238. 

Douglas,  281. 

Draper,  J.  W.,  his  historical  theorj, 
458. 


485 


486 


INDEX 


Eckermann,  339. 

Edwards,  J.,  188. 

Enoch,  the  hook  of,  422. 

Epictetus,  104. 

Epiplianius,  199. 

Erskine,  T.,  67,  127. 

Euemerus,  22, 175. 

Evolution,  52  seq.;  Spencer’s  doc¬ 
trine  of,  86  seq.;  in  relation  to 
Scripture,  478. 

Eusebius,  183,  199,  222,  etc. 

Ewald,  131,  241,  316,  318,  319,  331, 
420,  etc. 

Fairbairn,  A.  M.,  89. 

Family,  influence  of  Christianity 
on  the,  372. 

Fenelon,  45. 

Fetich-worship,  20. 

Fichte,  75. 

Flint,  It.,  41,  68,  79. 

Francis,  St.,  his  biographies,  300; 
his  alleged  miracles,  302 ;  his 
stigmata,  303. 

Froiide,  J.  A.,  187,  290. 

Galileo,  66,  448  seq.,  466. 

Genesis,  the  narrative  of  the  crea¬ 
tion  in,  473,  seq. 

Gibbon,  185,  298,  348. 

Gieseler,  186. 

Gnostics,  and  John’s  Gospel,  234. 
Goethe,  338. 

Gospels,  the  apocryphal,  206  seq. 
Gray,  A.,  57,  62. 

Gregory  of  Nyssa,  287. 

Grotius,  149. 

Guizot,  298. 

Hamilton,  Sir  William,  27  seq.,  87, 

98. 

Harnack,  182,  205. 

Harvey,  65. 

Haug,  128. 

Hegel,  75  seq. 

Henslow,  G.,  60. 

Herbert,  T.  M.,  17. 

Hermas,  232,  433,  435. 

Herschel,  Sir  J.,  49. 

Hilgenfeld,  149,  182,  190,  226. 
Hippolytus,  195,  222. 

Hobbes,  9,  11. 

Holtzmann,  213. 

Homologoumena,  435. 

Hopper,  391. 

Humboldt,  A.  von,  470. 

Hume,  6,  8,  97,  110,  282,  eto. 
Hutton,  R.  H.,  245,  339. 

Huxley,  T.  H.,  8,  55  seq.,  62,  63;  on 
Hume  and  miracles,  111  seq. 


Irenseus,  132,  184,  185,  186, 188,  432, 
etc. 

Jacobi,  32. 

James,  the  Epistle  of,  441. 

Janet,  60,  66. 

Jesus,  his  life  momentous,  122;  his 
personal  claims,  124  seq. ;  compared 
with  other  religious  founders,  128; 
insanity  has  beer  imputed  to  him, 
130;  his  sanity,  132;  his  sinless¬ 
ness,  134  seq.;  union  of  virtues  in 
him,  137  ;  free  from  self-accusa¬ 
tion,  137;  his  denunciation  of  the 
Pharisees,  141;  tried  by  suffering, 
142;  his  divine  mission  proved  by 
his  own  testimony  and  character, 
145  seq.;  his  injunctions  not  to 
report  his  miracles,  his  cautions 
against  an  over-esteem  of  them, 
153;  connection  of  his  teaching 
with  miracles,  155 ;  the  proof  of 
his  resurrection,  166  seq. ;  Renan’s 
conception  of,  177  seq.;  his  dis¬ 
courses,  247  seq.;  his  motive  in 
the  choice  of  the  disciples,  267  ; 
his  birth  and  childhood,  279;  pre¬ 
dicted  in  the  Old  Testament,  321 
seq.;  his  own  predictions,  334;  his 
work  as  the  Saviour,  346  seq.; 
his  teaching  respecting  God,  354; 
his  teaching  respecting  man,  355; 
his  incarnation  and  atonement, 
360;  his  new  ideal  of  man  and  of 
society,  369;  his  authority,  423. 

John  the  Baptist,  155  seq.,  162. 

Josephus,  on  the  canon  of  the  Old 
Testament,  427. 

Julian,  298. 

Julian,  the  emperor,  367. 

Justin,  190  seq.,  198, 214, 231, 429,  etc. 

Kant,  15,  84,  87,  97  seq.;  on  the  ar¬ 
gument  of  design,  48  seq. 

Keil,  245. 

Keim,  123, 165,  169,  174,  225,  227,  250, 
241;  on  Paul’s  conversion,  311. 

Kempis,  Thomas  h,  347. 

Kepler,  65. 

Koran,  character  of  the,  393. 

Kuenen,  326  seq. 

Lactantius,  195. 

Laplace,  66. 

Last  Supper,  the  date  of  the,  244. 

Legge,  391. 

Liddell,  Dean,  452. 

Lightfoot,  J.  B.,  150,  182,  185,  205, 
208,  209,  210,  211,  213,  229,  etc. 

Lipsius,  199. 

Logos,  in  the  Fourth  Gospel,  238  seq 


INDEX. 


487 


Lotze,  2 6,  35. 

Loyola,  286. 

Lucretius,  19,  51  seq. 

Lutlier,  on  the  books  of  the  New 
Testament,  438  seq. 

Maine,  Sir  Henry,  23. 

Mangold,  190,  216  225, 231. 

Mansel,  25,  87,  99. 

Marcion,  214,  233. 

Marcus  Aurelius,  104,  297. 

Martineau,  J.,  77. 

Maurice,  291. 

Maxwell,  Clerk,  18. 

McCosh,  J.,  39,  40. 

Melito,  232. 

Meyer,  141, 150,  245. 

Miller,  Hugh,  451. 

Mill,  J.  S.,  3,  7,  10,  11,  63,  79, 100, 
277,  etc. 

Miracles,  a  constituent  of  revela¬ 
tion,  105  seq. ;  their  relation  to 
the  uniformity  of  nature,  108 ; 
rest  on  historical  proof,  Hume’s 
argument  respecting,  109  seq., 
277;  Huxley  on,  111  seq.;  not  iso¬ 
lated  events,  114;  their  relation 
to  “the  order  of  nature,”  115; 
their  relation  to  internal  evi¬ 
dence,  116 ;  Rothe  on,  117  ;  im¬ 
portance  of,  118  seq. ;  wrought  by 
the  apostles,  as  they  thought, 
148  ;  injunctions  not  to  report, 
151  ;  not  to  esteem  too  highly, 
153;  inseparably  connected  with 
authentic  teaching,  155  seq.;  not 
attributed  to  John  the  Baptist, 
161 ;  nor  to  Jesus  prior  to  his 
public  ministry,  162;  proved  by 
the  faith  of  Jesus  in  himself,  and 
by  the  apostles  in  him,  162;  links 
in  the  chain  of  events,  164;  the 
resurrection  of  Jesus  one  of  them, 
166 ;  Renan’s  theory  respecting, 
177;  not  capable  of  demonstra¬ 
tive  proof,  180;  in  the  Gospels,  no 
presumption  against  their  genu¬ 
ineness,  181;  value  attached  to 
them  in  the  Fourth  Gospel,  257; 
Bishop  Butler  on,  279;  to  attest 
revelation,  281;  the  ground  and 
source  of  faith,  283;  not  the  re¬ 
sult  of  fraud,  284;  competence 
of  the  witnesses  to,  287  ;  none  of 
them  tentative,  288;  dignity  and 
beauty  of,  290;  alleged  post-apos- 
tolic,  291;  wrought  by  prophets, 
331. 

Miracles,  ecclesiastical,  not  to  at¬ 
test  revelation,  282  ;  frequently 
mere  marvels,  282;  for  the  fur¬ 


therance  of  an  existing  system. 
284 ;  explainable  by  natural 
causes,  285  ;  incompetence  of 
witnesses  to,  286  ;  often  tenta¬ 
tive  and  doubtful,  288;  often  gro¬ 
tesque,  289;  possible  occurrence 
of,  291;  in  the  patristic  era,  292; 
reported  by  Augustine,  293  seq. ; 
in  the  lives  of  the  saints,  299; 
Niebuhr’s  view  of,  299;  related  of 
St.  Francis,  300  seq. 

Mivart,  54,  62. 

Mohammed,  24. 

Mohammedanism,  367,  388,  393. 
Monotheism,  Hebrew,  its  origin, 
402  seq. 

Mozley,  J.  B.,  62,113,  115,  117, 134, 

281 

Muller,  Julius,  29  seq.,  35,  42. 
Muller,  Max,  392. 

Muratorian  canon,  184,  231. 

Natural  laws,  108  seq. 

Nature,  biblical  views  of,  469  seq. ; 

final  transfiguring  of,  481. 
Neander,  280,  298. 

Newman,  J.  H.,  281,  287. 

Newton,  65. 

Nicholson,  E.  B.,  202. 

Nitzsch,  35. 

Norton,  A.,  190,  207,  244. 

Oeliler,  316,  322. 

Origen,  185,  196,  474,  etc. 

Owen,  R.,  54,  62. 


Pantheism,  in  the  religions  of  l*i- 
dia,  1. 

Papias,  184,  210  seq. 

Park,  E.  A.,  111. 

Parker,  T.,  141. 

Pascal,  482. 

Paul  the  apostle,  139, 167;  on  seek¬ 
ing  for  God,  36;  at  Athens,  106. 
Paulus,  175. 

Peirce,  B.,  45,  65. 

Pentateuch,  its  origin,  419. 

Peshito,  184. 

Peter,  Second  Epistle  of,  443. 

Philo,  474;  in  relation  to  the  Fourth 
Gospel,  240. 

Philostratus,  286. 

Pollock,  75. 

Polycarp,  186. 

Polycrates,  246. 

Porter,  N.,  39,  64. 

Pothinus,  186. 

Reid,  T.,  28,  97. 


488 


INDEX 


Reformation,  its  effect  on  biblical 
criticism,  408. 

Renan,  123,  131,  132,  141,  165,  177 

seq.,  220. 

Renouf,  392, 

Reuss,  277. 

Revelation,  its  relation  to  redemp¬ 
tion,  410  ;  historical,  411 ;  ante¬ 
rior  to  the  Scriptures,  414,  etc. 
Rhys  Davids,  397. 

Ribadeneira,  286. 

Riehm,  316. 

Robinson,  E.,  244. 

Ropes,  C.  J.  II.,  18? 

Eothc,  117. 

Sadler  191 

Sanday,  W.,  190,  191,  239. 

Saturlinus,  234. 

Schaff,  P.,  217,  311. 

Schelling,  75. 

Schenkel,  226. 

Schleiermacher,  33,  117,  168. 
Schmid,  R.,  53.  62. 

Semisch,  190. 

Seneca,  104. 

Silliman,  B.,  451. 

Slavery,  relation  of  Christianity  to, 
384. 

Socialism,  its  relation  to  Chris¬ 
tianity,  383. 

Socrates,  130,  447. 

Spencer,  Herbert,  on  free-will,  7, 
13;  on  the  origin  of  religion,  21 
seq.,  39,  85  seq.,  101,  etc. 

Spinoza,  6,  7,  9,  10,  39,  73  seq. 

State,  influence  of  Christianity  on 
cne,  373. 

Stewart,  D.,  28. 

Strauss,  123,  157,  163,  176,  242. 
Stuart,  Moses,  451. 

“  Supernatural  Religion,”  200. 


Tati  an,  his  Diatesseron,  204  seq., 
232. 

Taylor,  Jeremy,  201. 

Taylor,  W.  M.,  139. 

Tertullian,  183,  185,  197,  203,  214, 
260,  etc. 

Theodicy,  Christian  doctrine  of  the, 
361. 

Tholuck,  244. 

Tillemont,  182. 

Trendelenburg,  39,  41,  64. 
Tschirnhausern,  75. 

Tyndale,  on  the  books  of  the  New 
Testament,  438. 

'Tyndall,  81. 

War,  effect  of  Christianity  on,  383. 
1  Weiss,  B.,  131,  140,  141,  211,  218, 

!  280. 

Wellhausen,  402. 

Wesley,  J.,  15. 

Westcott,  201,  218,  220,  241,  etc. 
Whewell,  461. 

Whitney,  W.  D.,  392,  394. 

Wieseler,  244. 

Williams,  Monier,  129. 

Ueberweg,  74. 

Ulrici,  26,  33,  35. 

Valentinus,  234. 

Variability,  56  seq. 

Venables,  227. 

Virchow,  62. 

Xavier,  St.  Francis,  286,  29t 

Zahn,  182,  205,  227. 

Zeller,  E.,  222,  238,  440. 

Zdckler,  458. 

Zoroaster,  128. 


CHURCH  HISTORY 


THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  With  a  View  of  tho 
State  of  the  Roman  World  at  the  Birth  of  Christ.  By 
GEORGE  P.  FISHER,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  Church 
History  in  Yale  College.  8vo,  $2.50. 

THE  BOSTON  ADVERTISER.— “  Prof.  Fisher  has  displayed  in  this,  as  in  his 
previous  published  writings,  that  catholicity  and  that  calm  judicial  quality  of 
mind  which  are  so  indispensable  to  a  true  historical  critic.” 

THE  EXAMINER.— “The  volume  is  not  a  dry  repetition  of  well-known  facts. 
It  bears  the  marks  of  original  research.  Every  page  glows  with  freshness  of 
material  and  choiceness  of  diction.” 

THE  EVANGELIST.— “The  volume  contains  an  amount  of  information  that 
makes  It  one  of  the  most  useful  of  treatises  for  a  student  in  philosophy  and 
theology,  and  must  secure  for  it  a  place  in  his  library  as  a  standard  authority.” 


HISTORY  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH.  By  GEORGE  P. 
FISHER,  O.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  Ecclesiastical  History  irt 
Yale  University,  Gvo,  with  numerous  maps,  $3*50. 

This  work  is  in  several  respects  notable.  It  gives  an  able  presenta¬ 
tion  of  the  subject  in  a  single  volume,  thus  supplying  the  need  of  a 
complete  and  at  the  same  time  condensed  survey  of  Church  History. 
It  will  also  be  found  much  broader  and  more  comprehensive  than  other 
books  of  the  kind.  The  following  will  indicate  its  aim  and  scope. 

FROM  THE  PREFACE.— “There  are  two  particulars  in  which  I  have  sought 
to  make  the  narrative  specially  serviceable.  In  the  first  place  the  attempt  has 
been  made  to  exhibit  fully  the  relations  of  the  history  of  Christianity  and  of  the 
Church  to  contemporaneous  secular  history.  *  *  *  I  have  tried  to  bring  out 
more  distinctly  than  is  usually  done  the  interaction  of  events  and  changes  in  the 
political  sphere,  with  the  phenomena  which  belong  more  strictly  to  the  ecclesiasti¬ 
cal  and  religious  province.  In  the  second  place  it  has  seemed  to  me  possible  to 
present  a  tolerably  complete  survey  of  the  history  of  theological  doctrine.  *  *  * 

“  It  has  appeared  to  me  better  to  express  frankly  the  conclusions  to  which  my 
investigations  have  led  me,  on  a  variety  of  topics  where  differences  of  opinion 
exist,  than  to  take  refuge  in  ambiguity  or  silence.  Something  of  the  dispassionate 
temper  of  an  onlooker  may  be  expected  to  result  from  historical  studies  if  long 
pursued ;  nor  is  this  an  evil,  if  there  is  kept  alive  a  warm  sympathy  with  the  spirit 
of  holiness  and  love,  "wherever  it  is  manifest. 

“As  this  book  is  designed  not  for  technical  students  exclusively,  but  for  intel¬ 
ligent  readers  generally,  the  temptation  to  enter  into  extended  and  minute  discua* 
siona  on  perplexed  or  controverted  topics  has  been  resisted.” 


STANDARD  TEXT  BOOKS. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  CHRISTIAN  CHURCH.  By  PHILIP  SCHAFF, 
D.D.  New  Edition,  re-written  and  enlarged.  Vol.  I.— Apos¬ 
tolic  Christianity,  A.D.  1—100.  Vol.  IS.— Ante-Nicene  Chris¬ 
tianity,  A.D.  100—325.  Vol.  III.— Nicene  and  Post-Nicene 
Christianity,  A.D.  311—600.  Vol.  IV.— IVIedisevai  Christianity, 
A.D.  590—1073.  8vo,  price  per  vol.,  $4.00. 

This  work  is  extremely  comprehensive.  All  subjects  that  properly 
belong  to  a  complete  sketch  are  treated,  including  the  history  of  Chris¬ 
tian  art,  hymnology,  accounts  of  the  lives  and  chief  works  of  the 
Fathers  of  the  Church,  etc.  The  great  theological,  ehristological,  and 
anthropological  controversies  of  the  period  are  duly  sketched  ;  and  in 
all  the  details  of  history  the  organizing  hand  of  a  master  is  distinctly 
seen,  shaping  the  mass  of  materials  into  order  and  system. 

PROF.  GEO.  P.  FISHER,  of  Tale  College.— “Dr.  Schaff  has  thoroughly  and 
successfully  accomplished  his  task.  The  volumes  are  replete  with  evidences  of  a 
careful  study  of  the  original  sources  and  of  an  extraordinary  and,  we  might  say, 
unsurpassed  acquaintance  with  the  modern  literature— German,  French,  and 
English— in  the  department  of  ecclesiastical  history.  They  are  equally  marked  by 
a  fair-minded,  conscientious  spirit,  as  well  as  by  a  lucid,  animated  mode  of 
presentation.” 

PROF.  ROSWELL  D.  HITCHCOCK,  D.D. — “In  no  other  single  work  of 
its  hind  with  which  I  am  acquainted  will  students  and  general  readers  find  so 
much  to  instruct  and  interest  them.” 

DR.  JUL.  MULLER,  of  Halle. — “It  is  the  only  history  of  the  first  six  cen¬ 
turies  which  truly  satisfies  the  wants  of  the  present  age.  It  is  rich  in  results  of 
original  investigation.” 

HISTORY  OF  THE  CHURCH  OF  CHRIST,  IN  CHRONOLOGI¬ 
CAL  TABLES.  A  Synchronistic  View  of  the  Events,  Charac¬ 
teristics,  and  Culture  of  each  period,  including  the  History  of 
Polity,  Worship,  Literature,  and  Doctrines,  together  with  two 
Supplementary  Tables  upon  the  Church  in  America;  and  an 
Appendix,  containing  the  series  of  Councils,  Popes,  Patri¬ 
archs,  and  other  Bishops,  and  a  full  Index.  By  the  late 
HENRY  B.  SiVS ITH,  D.D.,  Professor  in  the  Union  Theologi¬ 
cal  Seminary  of  the  City  of  New  York.  Revised  Edition,, 
Folio,  $5.00. 

REV.  DR.  W.  G.  T.  SHEDD. — “Prof.  Smith’s  Historical  Tables  are  the  beat 
that  I  know  of  in  any  language.  In  preparing  such  a  work,  with  so  much  care  and 
research,  Prof.  Smith  has  furnished  to  the  student  an  apparatus  that  will  be  of 
life-long  service  to  him” 

REV.  DR.  WILLIAM  ADAMS. — “The  labor  expended  upon  such  a  work  is 
immense,  and  its  accuracy  and  completeness  do  honor  to  the  research  and 
scholarship  of  Its  author,  and  are  an  invaluable  acquisition  to  our  literature.” 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER’S  SONS' 


LECTURES  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  JEWISH  CHURCH.  By 
ARTHUR  PENRHYN  STANLEY,  D.D.  With  Maps  and  Plans. 
New  Edition  from  New  Plates,  with  the  author’s  latest  revis¬ 
ion.  Part  I.— From  Abraham  to  Samuel.  Part  II.— From 
Samuel  to  the  Captivity.  Part  II!.— From  the  Captivity  to 
the  Christian  Era.  Three  vols.,  12mo  (sold  separately),  each 
$2.00. 


The  same— Westminster  Edition.  Three  vols.,  8vo  (sold  in  sets 
only),  per  set,  $9.00. 

LECTURES  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  EASTERN  CHURCH. 
With  an  introduction  on  the  Study  of  Ecclesiastical  History. 
By  ARTHUR  PENRHYN  STANLEY,  D.D.  New  Edition  from 
New  Plates.  12mo,  $2.00. 

LECTURES  ON  THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CHURCH  OF  SCOT¬ 
LAND.  By  ARTHUR  PENRHYN  STANLEY,  D.D.  8vo,  $1.50. 

In  all  that  concerns  the  external  characteristics  of  the  scenes  and 
persons  described,  Dr.  Stanley  is  entirely  at  home.  His  books  are  not 
dry  records  of  historic  events,  but  animated  pictures  of  historic  scenes 
and  of  the  actors  in  them,  while  the  human  motives  and  aspects  of 
events  are  brought  out  in  bold  and  full  relief. 

the  LONDON  CRITIC.— “  Earnest,  eloquent,  learned,  with  a  style  that  is 
never  monotonous,  but  luring  through  its  eloquence,  the  lectures  will  maintain 
his  fame  as  author,  scholar,  and  divine.  We  could  point  out  many  passages  that 
glow  with  a  true  poetic  fire,  but  there  are  hundreds  pictorially  rich  and  poetically 
true.  The  reader  experiences  no  weariness,  for  in  every  page  and  paragraph 
there  is  something  to  engage  the  mind  and  refresh  the  soul.” 

THE  NEW  ENGLANDER.— “We  have  first  to  express  our  admiration  of  the 
grace  and  graphic  beauty  of  his  style.  The  felicitous  discrimination  in  the  use 
of  language  which  appears  on  every  page  is  especially  required  on  these  topics, 
where  the  author’s  position  might  so  easily  be  mistaken  through  an  unguarded 
statement.  Dr.  Stanley  is  possessed  of  the  prime  quality  of  an  historical  student 
and  writer— namely,  the  historical  feeling,  or  sense,  by  which  conditions  of  lifo 
and  types  of  character,  remote  from  our  present  experience,  are  vividly  con¬ 
ceived  of  and  truly  appreciated.” 

THE  N.  Y.  TIMES.— “The  Old  Testament  History  is  here  presented  as  it 
never  was  presented  before ;  with  so  much  clearness,  elegance  of  style,  and  his¬ 
toric  and  literary  illustration,  not  to  speak  of  learning  and  calmness  of  judgment, 
that  not  theologians  alone,  but  also  cultivated  readers  generally,  are  drawn  to  its 
pages.  In  point  of  style  it  takes  rank  with  Macaulay’s  History  and  the  best 
sh&pters  of  Froude.” 


BIBLICAL  STUDY. 


BIBLICAL  STUDY.  Sts  Principles,  Methods,  and  History.  Bf 
CHARLES  A.  BRSQGS,  D.D.,  Professor  of  Hebrew  and 
Cognate  Languages  in  Union  Theological  Seminary.  Crown 
Ovo,  $2.50. 

The  author  has  timed  to  present  a  guide  to  Biblical  Study  for  tho 
intelligent  layman  as  well  as  the  theological  student  and  minister  of 
the  Gospel.  At  the  same  time  a  sketch  of  the  entire  history  of  each 
department  of  Biblical  Study  has  been  given,  the  stages  of  its  develop¬ 
ment  are  traced,  the  normal  is  discriminated  from  the  abnormal,  and 
the  whole  is  rooted  in  the  methods  of  Christ  and  His  Apostles. 

THE  BOSTON  ADVERTISER.— “  The  principles,  methods,  and  history  of 
Biblical  study  are  very  fully  considered,  and  it  is  one  of  the  best  works  of  its  kind 
to  the  language,  if  not  the  only  book  wherein  the  modem  methods  of  the  study 
of  the  Bible  are  entered  into,  apart  from  direct  theological  teaching.” 

THE  LONDON  SPECTATOR.— “  Dr.  Briggs’  book  is  one  of  much  value,  not  the 
less  to  be  esteemed  because  of  the  moderate  compass  into  which  its  mass  of  in-' 
formation  has  been  compressed.” 

SV1ESS2AMLC  PROPHECY.  The  Prediction  of  the  Fulfilment  of 
Redemption  through  the  Pdessiah.  A  Critical  Study  of  tho 
IVIessianic  Passages  of  the  Old  Testament  in  the  Order  of 
their  Development.  By  CHARLES  A,  ORiGGS,  D.D.,  Pro* 
lessor  of  Hebrew  and  the  Cognate  Languages  in  the  Union 
Theological  Seminary.  Crown  8vo,  $2.50. 

In  this  work  the  author  develops  and  traces  “the  prediction  of 
the  fulfilment  of  redemption  through  the  Messiah  ”  through  the  whole 
series  of  Messianic  passages  and  prophecies  in  the  Old  Testament. 
Beginning  with  the  first  vague  intimations  of  the  great  central  thought 
of  redemption  he  arrays  one  prophecy  after  another  ;  indicating  clearly 
the  general  condition,  mental  and  spiritual,  out  of  which  each  prophecy 
arises  ;  noting  the  gradual  widening,  deepening,  and  clarification  of 
the  prophecy  as  it  is  developed  from  one  prophet  to  another  to  the 
end  of  the  Old  Testament  canon. 

THE  LONDON  ACADEMY. — “His  new  book  on  Messianic  Prophecy  Is  a 
worthy  companion  to  his  indispensable  text-book  on  Biblical  study.  He  has  pro¬ 
duced  the  first  English  text-book  on  the  subject  of  Messianic  Prophecy  which  a 
modern  teacher  can  use.” 

THE  EVANGELIST.— “  Messianic  Prophecy  is  a  subject  of  no  common  inter¬ 
est,  and  this  book  is  no  ordinary  book.  It  is,  on  the  contrary,  a  work  of  the  very 
first  order ;  the  ripe  product  of  yeara  of  study  upon  the  highest  themes.  16  !g 
ixegesis  In  a  master-hand,” 


STANDARD  TEXT  BOOKS. 


THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  HISTORY.  According  to  the  Bible  and 
the  Traditions  of  the  Oriental  Peoples.  From  the  Creation 
of  Man  to  the  Deluge,  By  FRANCOIS  LENORMANT,  Pro¬ 
fessor  of  Archaeology  at  the  National  Library  of  France,  eta 
(Translated  from  the  Second  French  Edition).  With  an  in¬ 
troduction  by  Francis  Brown,  Associate  Professor  in  Biblical 
Philology,  Union  Theological  Seminary.  12mo,  $2.50, 

THE  NEW  ENGLANDER.— “Mr.  Lenormant  Is  not  only  a  believer  in  reve¬ 
lation,  but  a  devout  confessor  of  what  came  by  Moses ;  as  well  as  of  what  came 
by  Christ.  In  this  explanation  of  Chaldean,  Babylonian,  Assyrian  and  Phenician 
tradition,  he  discloses  a  prodigality  of  thought  and  shill  allied  to  great  variety  of 
pursuit,  and  diligent  manipulation  of  what  he  has  secured.” 

THE  NEW  YORK  TRIBUNE.— “ The  work  is  one  that  deserves  to  be  studied 
by  all  students  of  ancient  history,  and  in  particular  by  ministers  of  the  Gospel, 
whose  office  requires  them  to  interpret  the  Scriptures,  and  who  ought  not  to  be 
ignorant  of  the  latest  and  most  interesting  contribution  of  science  to  the  elucida¬ 
tion  of  the  sacred  volume.” 

QUOTATIONS  IN  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT.  By  C.  H.  .OY„ 
D.D.,  Professor  of  Hebrew  in  Harvard  University.  8vo2  $3.50„ 

THE  CONGREGATION  A  LIST. — “  Textual  points  are  considered  carefully,  and 
temple  and  accurate  indexes  complete  the  work.  The  minute  and  patient 
thoroughness  of  his  examination  of  passages  and  the  clear  and  compact  arrange- 
ment  of  his  views  render  his  book  remarkable.  The  difficulties  of  his  task  were 
great  and  he  has  shown  rare  skill  and  has  attained  noteworthy  success  in  meeting 
them.” 

THE  CHRISTIAN  EVANGELIST. — “Prof.  Toy’s  collection  and  comparison  of 
the  passages  quoted  in  the  New  and  Old  Testament  is  a  fine,  scholarly  piece  of 
work.  It  surpasses  anything  that  has  been  done  by  European  scholarship  in  this 
field.” 

THE  CHALDEAN  ACCOUNT  OF  GENESIS,  By  GEORGE 
SMITH,  of  the  Department  of  Oriental  Antiquities,  British 
Museum.  A  New  Edition,  revised  and  corrected  (with  addi¬ 
tions),  by  A.  H.  Sayce.  8vo,  $3.00. 

THE  N.  Y.  GUARDIAN.— “It  is  impossible  in  few  words  to  give  any  adequate 
impression  of  the  exceeding  value  of  this  work.  This  volume  is  sure  to  find  its 
way  into  the  public  libraries  of  the  country,  and  the  important  facts  which  it 
contains  should  be  scattered  everywhere  among  the  people.” 

THE  CHRISTIAN  INTELLIGENCER.— “The  accomplished  Assyriologist  Prof. 
Sayce  has  gone  over  the  whole  with  the  advantage  of  a  large  number  of  additional 
texts,  and  has  carefully  brought,  the  book  up  to  the  level  of  the  present  knowl¬ 
edge  of  the  subject.  The  book  as  it  stands  is  a  very  important  verification  of 
ihe  early  Hebrew  records,” 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS * 


fHE  DOCTRINE  OF  SACRED  SCRIPTURE.  A  Critical,  His¬ 
torical,  and  Dogmatic  Inquiry  into  the  Origin  and  Nature 
©f  the  Old  and  New  Testaments.  By  GEORGE  T.  LADD, 
D.D.j  Professor  of  Cental  and  floral  Philosophy  in  Yale 
College.  2  vois.,  Ovo,  $7.00. 

0.  HENRY  THAYER,  D.D.— "It  is  the  most  elaborate,  erudite,  judicious  dis- 
•  yission  of  the  doctrine  of  Scripture,  in  its  various  aspects,  with  which  I  am 
acquainted.  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that,  for  enabling  a  young  minister 
to  present  views  alike  wise  and  reverent  respecting  the  nature  and  use  of 
Bacred  Scripture,  nay,  for  giving  him  in  general  a  Biblical  outlook  upon  Chris¬ 
tian  theology,  both  in  its  theoretical  and  its  practical  relations,  the  faithful  study 
cf  this  thorough,  candid,  scholarly  work  will  be  worth  to  him  as  much  as  half 
the  studies  of  his  seminary  course.” 

GEORGE  P.  FISHER,  D.D.,  LL.D.— “  Professor  Ladd’s  work  is  from  the  pen  of 
an  able  and  trained  scholar,  candid  in  spirit  and  thorough  in  his  researches.  It 
is  so  comprehensive  in  its  plan,  so  complete  in  the  presentation  of  facts,  and  so 
closely  related  to  ‘  the  burning  questions  ’  of  the  day,  that  it  cannot  fail  to  enlist 
the  attention  of  all  earnest  students  of  theology.” 

WORD  STUDIES  IN  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT.  By  EARVIN  R. 
VINCENT,  D.D.  The  Synoptic  Gospels,  Acts  of  the  Apostles, 
and  the  Epistles  of  Peter,  James  and  Jude.  Ovo,  $4.00. 

The  purpose  of  the  author  is  to  enable  the  English  reader  and 
eiudent  to  get  at  the  original  force,  meaning,  and  color  of  the  signifi¬ 
cant  words  and  phrases  as  used  by  the  different  writers.  An  introduc¬ 
tion  to  the  comments  upon  each  book  sets  forth  in  compact  form  what 
is  known  about  the  author — how,  where,  with  what  object,  and 
with  what  peculiarities  of  style  he  wrote.  Dr.  Vincent  has  gathered 
from  all  sources  and  put  in  an  easily  comprehended  form  a  great  quan¬ 
tity  of  information  of  much  value  to  the  critical  expert  as  well  as  to 
the  studious  layman  who  wishes  to  get  at  the  real  spirit  of  the  Greek 

REV.  DR.  HOWARD  CROSBY.— “ Dr.  Vincent’s  ‘Word  Studies  in  the  New 
Testament  ’  is  a  delicious  book.  As  a  Greek  scholar,  a  clear  thinker,  a  logical 
reasoner,  a  master  In  English,  and  a  devout  sympathizer  with  the  truths  of  reve¬ 
lation,  Dr.  Vincent  is  just  the  man  to  interest  and  edify  the  Church  with  such  a 
work  as  this.  There  are  few  scholars  who,  to  such  a  degree  as  Dr.  Vincent, 
mingle  scholarly  attainment  with  aptness  to  Impart  knowledge  In  attractive  form. 
All  Bible-readers  should  enjoy  and  profit  by  these  delightful  ‘  Word  Studies.’  ” 

DR.  THEO.  L.  CUYLER,  In  The  N.  T.  Evangelist. — “ The  very  things  which 
&  young  minister— and  many  an  older  one  also — ought  to  know  about  the  chief 
words  in  his  New  Testament  he  will  be  able  to  learn  In  this  affluent  volume. 
Years  of  close  study  by  one  of  our  brightest  Greek  scholars,  have  been  condensed 
Into  its  pages.  If  busy  pastors,  who  have  to  fight  for  time  to  prepare  for  their 
pulpits,  will  find  this  book  a  ‘  Godsend,'  so  will  the  army  of  intelligent  Sunday*, 
Ichool  teachers,® 


